The Valentine Legacy
by Proudly Pinoy
Summary: Chris and Jill are married, but find that their worst fear resurfaces when their child is afflicted with something from the past. -Complete-
1. Intrinsic

Author's note: If you've played it in the game, or have seen it in your TV screen, then you know that it ain't mine.

Resident Evil: "The Valentine Legacy"

Prologue:

                The baby's cries echoed in the spotless, white delivery room. "Congratulations…it's a healthy baby girl." Announced the middle-aged surgeon as he tenderly handed the child to a nearby nurse. She gently wrapped her around a green blanket, and with the biggest of smiles, passed her to the mother. Jill Valentine had tears in her green eyes, fatigue was still clear on her face, but she didn't care. Chris Redfield was by her side; his face was just as elated as hers. He was the only other color in the room, save for the blanket, as he wore a red polo t-shirt and a pair of slacks. 

"She's so beautiful…" Jill whispered to Chris as she cradled the baby in her arms. 

"What's her name?" Chris asked the woman, who seemed to be in a deep euphoric trance. "Uh…how's…Heart? Heart sounds nice." 

"…Heart sounds perfect." 

"…" 

"I'm a dad." Chris finally blurted out, hovering his finger over the baby's now peaceful face. Heart gave a small moan, and reached out, her hand softly grasping her father's finger. Only the three of them seemed to exist in those golden memories. Time stopped and hearts melded as the couple stared lovingly at the child bore out of their love. 

                Sixteen years had passed since that moment in the delivery room, as both Chris and Jill were already in their late thirties. On the other hand, it has been a eighteen and a half years since they managed to defeat Umbrella, as well as the HCF, after setting them to war against each other, and attacking full force right in the middle of the madness. Sixty-eight people were arrested for illegal research, sedition and murder. No less then three thousand people were put out of their jobs. _"It's better than losing their lives." _

                There was of course, still some hostility towards them, they who destroyed the very companies that the whole world itself grew so dependent on. Some praised them however, but those some were few. People looking for vengeance, people looking for solace, and mostly people who wanted their grief to subside. _"It's a part of us now." _

                The agents of survival did not think of the aftermaths of Umbrella and HCF's ultimate oblivion. Who would? There where undead humans, they shot them. There were hunters, lickers or the like, they slay them. There were Tyrants and gigantic mutations; they blasted them to hell with everything and anything they could get their hands on. It was as simple as that. Anyone would have the right to do so. Most of everyone does want to stay alive. _"It's the only thing that could have been done."_

                Between the travesties budded relationships and brotherhood; through the darkness there came the light, the hope, that in each other they could find their way. And they did. All of them. Unspeakable horrors haunted them through the prime of their lives, but its fruit was an undying passion to never let life go by. Chris and Jill will never let life go by. And this is their story. 

Chapter 1: "Intrinsic"

                Heart Redfield watched the Esjay Lake reflect the golden sunlight as she sat among the tall grass. Her long, brown hair flew to her side because of the soft winds that blew. She was an epitome of beauty, with soft, tanned skin and sparkling green eyes. She had her mother's nose and chin, while she carried her father's courage and determination. Heart wore a red and pink, horizontally striped tank top, and a pair of blue jeans. 

A young man stood beside her, he had chestnut hair that was slightly curled on the ends and reached down his neck. He had ghostly pale skin, and like Heart, dazzling green eyes. Mark Levant Hal was a young man of eighteen, just two years older than the woman he loved. He wore a loose, v-neck green shirt and khaki shorts that reached his knees. The young man kept both hands in his pockets as he stared into Esjay. Past the deep waters and into the horizon could be seen the mountain range that was once known to be Arklay, but is now just a nameless tribute to time. It was amazing to see the sun peek out from behind those massive trumps of earth and stone.  

"Mark?" 

"Yeah?" he responded, looking down to find Heart leaning her head on his waist. 

"…Amazing how…we all picture tomorrow as…a place full of chrome skyscrapers and flying cars…"

"…Yeah?" he gently moved down and sat beside her, wrapping his arm around her shoulders. 

"You know, the people from mom and dad's time actually thought that we'd have space colonies in, like, Pluto by now." 

"…Looks like nothing really changes from the past." 

"Yeah…well, they have that pre-cognitive thing going on." 

"I don't think that went well."

"Really?"

"Uh-huh." 

"Too bad."

"…Mark?"

"Yeah?" 

"The chest pains…they're getting worse." She told him, making him turn and stare at her with worry. 

"You said that…they were gone…" 

"I…didn't want mom and dad to worry." 

"Heart…"

"I've been flunking my subjects…I get into a lot of fights…mom and dad are already knee deep in problems because of me and…"

"But they're your parents. It's our jobs to be juvenile delinquents and its their jobs to set us straight…come on Heart, this may be bad…" 

"I…don't tell them, okay?" 

"…Heart…"

"Mark, I told you this because… I trust you."

"And I'm saying this because I love you. Tell them." 

"…"   

                Jill Valentine was one of the lucky few people whose features were not eaten away by age. She was still so radiant, so perfect, that flowers shied away at the sight of her.  The ex-officer was practically a celebrity to most women in the world, a symbol of strength and equality. To most men on the other hand, she was eye-candy, and they were right. That also made her husband, Chris, one of the luckiest men on Earth. Like his wife, he was also a hero, one of the few men who charged into the mouth of hell and emerged alive. Also like his wife, age did not hinder his features as much as it did other people, most probably because he always kept his body in check. 

                As all most people prefer, they lived in a ranch just outside the city, beside a beautiful lake that stretched far and wide. Two dust roads stretched down and converged by a somewhat triangular area where a simple, but relatively large house was. Blades of grass grew taller as they stood farther from the house itself. The house was made of two floors, and was shaped like an "L" with a longer side that was nearer to the roads, and a shorter tail side that faced the lake. Brown hardwood made up for the establishment, something that Chris and Jill had always wanted.

                The area that faced the lake was the lounge room, with a glass partition that spanned two floors. It was their living room. They had a perfect view of the lake and the mountain range from there. On the wall adjacent to the glass wall was a brick fireplace, and opposite that was a set of Corinthian leather seats and a sofa. A Persian carpet of red and gold was laid in the middle of the living room. Wooden, but polished floorboards made up for most of the ground.  

                Jill and Chris spent their time in silence, sitting on the sofa. They had a golden retriever sleeping peacefully by their feet. It was like a portrait of a perfect marriage, with Jill leaning her head on Chris' right shoulder as they held hands under a comfortable silence. Chris wore a long-sleeved black shirt and a pair of grayish slacks, while Jill wore a red blouse and blue denim pants. 

"Is Heart with Mark again?" she asked him. 

"I think so. They've only been together since forever." 

"…Heart's too young for something like this."

"But it's summer love."

"…What?" 

"Nothing."

"She'll be headed for college by June, she doesn't need this kind of distraction."

"If I remember correctly, we were fighting ten-foot mutations and it was this kind of distraction that kept us alive." Chris whispered to her ear. 

"It was you or the tyrant."

"Uh-huh."

"The tyrant blew up so I'm stuck with you." She joked at him. 

"Now that's harsh." He replied with a chuckle. 

"Hmm, I think I'd better start fixing dinner." 

"So…"

"If I hear any innuendo from you mister, you are sleeping on the couch."

"Not a word." 

"Check up on the kids, will you? Make sure that they're not…making out or something." 

"Sure thing, my queen of the night." He said with a mock salute. 

"I'm serious." 

"Don't stereotype the kids. Not every teen-ager is a walking hormone bomb." 

"Yeah, right."

"I wasn't." 

"Liar."   

                 Heart and Mark made their way to a small atrium just near the lake, out of view from the house's living room. It was a round, white construction that had five arc-shaped beams going up and converging into the center. The beams weren't too narrow, nor were they too wide. A wooden bench ran along each beam, save for an entryway that acted as the only entrance or exit. Glass made up for the space that was not occupied by either beam or bench. The entry way was a tall, arched opening. In a way, it looked more like a small green house than anything else, as it was Jill's own contribution in the architecture. 

"…Listen, I can take you to the doctor, and they won't have to know." Mark suggested as they sat down. They still held each other's hand. "You know how expensive that is…" Heart replied. 

"Well, I've been working since I was fifteen…"

"…Stoneville hospital is directed by Rebecca Chambers, a personal friend of my parents. Nothing happens in that building that she doesn't know about." 

"We can't just…"

"I'm not having strokes. For all we know, it may just be…heart burn from eating so much."

"But you're a vegetarian."

"…Right…"  

"Maybe you should eat more." He retorted jokingly. Heart had a thin frame that made her look like a model, something definitely inherited from her mother. "…You should definitely eat more." 

"…" Heart just smiled and looked down onto the wooden floorboards. Something then caught the corner of her eye as she shifted her line of sight to her boyfriend. Chris was headed their way. 

"…My dad's here." She whispered just as Chris rounded the atrium as to reach the entrance. Just as he did, mark slipped a few inches away from Heart innocently. 

"Dinner's going to be ready soon." Chris quickly announced just as he peered through the entryway, shifting his gaze from daughter to lover. 

"Good afternoon Mr. Redfield." Mark greeted. 

"It's a minute past six." The elder man then reminded. 

"Oh, good evening Mr. Redfield." 

"Actually I lied, it's quarter." 

"Dad!" Heart interrupted. 

"What?" Chris responded with a slight laugh. 

"Okay, okay, we'll go to dinner." Replied his daughter. 

"We are?" Mark then asked. 

"Yes, you are. We insist." Chris then added. 

"Uh…" 

"Mark says yes." Heart chided. 

"Yes." 

"Okay. See you two in the house?" Chris asked.

"Sure." Both the kids then replied at the same time. 

                Chris then waved at them, bidding farewell as he went back to the house in a carefree manner that didn't seem possible when tied to the events of the past. He put his hands in both his pockets and strode through the there neatly trimmed grass. Chris had a child-like essence to him, something that a good number of fathers lack now a days. 

"You're dad's a cool guy." Mark said as he watched the ex-soldier disappear into the distance. 

"…Yeah, he is, isn't he?" Heart responded with a smile. She held her chest, once again feeling a rhythmic, pulsating pain that was like a knife that kept on stabbing her chest. _"What's happening to me?" _she thought to herself as she stood up. "Let's go inside." She offered, trying as best as she could to hide the pain that pounded all over her body. _"…This has to stop…" _ 

Author's note: I hope you got interested in that. In case no one has figured it out, the thing in Heart's chest isn't exactly natural. This may span more than ten chapters, which is my usual count. The Moonlight Mile and In the Bedroom inspired this story, with the latter being one of my favorite movies of all time. Of course, I'm not following their stories, I'm making my own, and I hope the readers would enjoy.  


	2. Stir

Author's note: Hey, I'm back, and thanks to the beautiful people who reviewed. Here's the second chapter of my oddly inspired story about life, and I hope you enjoy. 

Sara: Glad to see you back. How's it going? 

Frenchy: Nice bio you have there, babe. 

Alex (may I call you Alex in the net?): You're mail got me typing again (after going through a hellish exegetical study), so the next chapter will be dedicated to you…or something. 

Saunce: Yeah, some other characters, but saying it all would really ruin the surprise, right?    

Chapter 2: "Stir"

Mark had already spent the whole morning in the Stoneville Public Library, specifically in the health and sciences section. The library was a grand fixture, something that seemed to have been taken from the hallowed grounds of Cambridge and Harvard. He was on the ground floor, where only a few people were reading. The second floor could be seen from where he was, since the study area was a wide room that spanned two floors vertically. Massive, arc-shaped windows lined the far left wall, pouring ion the rays of light, as it God Himself watched over them right outside. 

The stones that made up the walls were old and gray, while the shelves, railings and carrels were all made of highly polished mahogany. A lot of taxpayer's money was put into refurnishing the library, and it definitely showed. Mark always loved it there, the smell of the old books, the peace and quiet. He wore a loose, long-sleeved orange shirt and a pair of blue denim pants, both of which were already notably faded. A female librarian waved at him as he sat down on a carrel, waving back to her as well. Mark then resumed his business. 

A pathology book was by his right hand, still closed, and piled over three more books on cardiovascular and respiratory functions as well as their corresponding ailments. He wasn't entirely fond of medicine-related subjects, but then, he found himself eating each and every fact. A yellow pad was by his left hand, where he wrote his findings with a Mongol 2 pencil. Mark had just spent the last four hours bulleting various causes of chest pains as well as treatments for them. His index finger already had a painful mark on it after having the pencil buried against his skin for so long. 

_"…Recurring chest pains could be attributed to high cholesterol…no, I don't think this goes for Heart." _He thought as he read through. All of a sudden, the lead of his pencil snapped, making him swear out, much to his embarrassment. "Sorry." He whispered, prompting everyone to resume what they did, save a few of the girls who let a lingering look fall on the young man. _"…Okay, typical syndromes of heart disease include…numbness in the extremities, swelling, labored breathing…" _He closed the book and rubbed the back of his head. There were a hundred different reasons for the pains attacking his girlfriend, but none of them suited how she claimed to have felt. 

                Heart on the other hand, found time to jog the forest routes surrounding her home. She always did, finding the call of nature to calm her bones, especially now that it felt like they were staging a revolution inside of her. She had on a pair of Oakley shades that were silver in color, a gray sleeveless top and her black Nike jogging pants that had a white streak on the sides. Rays of light pierced through the massive halls of pine. She was a city girl who always knew when and what to appreciate in life. _"I'm going to beat this thing." _She thought to herself. 

                She could always remember running through those woods. She once loved those tales of fabulous creatures running about in enchanted forests. Will o' wisps flew through the air as Pan played his flute. Eponines and faeries whispered and giggled as they lived in the water lilies by the bank. They had beautiful wings, some of butterflies and others of wasps, shining in colors that no rainbow could match. Things that the mortal eye couldn't see, nor the mortal mind could comprehend, would swirl about in utter silence, carrying with them the wisdom of nature and the eyes that have seen through ages. Then there would come the white stallion, with a horn as its crown, proud yet silent. Its hooves were loud as thunder and soft as chimes both at the same time, with a mane so flowing that you'd swear it would cover the sky. Heart always wanted to live the life of the fairytale, even now at her age. 

                Out of the blue, a loud gasp of air escaped her, sending her down to the dusty road. It was a feeling that her twisted face and gaping mouth could not tell justice. She couldn't scream, but only writhe in agony as pain began to envelop her. Her body convulsed, and she began to panic at the combination of pain and lack of control that she felt. It wasn't the fact that her body felt like it was being bombarded with halberds that frightened her; it was the feeling that she could do absolutely nothing to stop it. Just as soon as it came, the pain stopped, and Heart found herself staring to the blue sky, gasping for air. After a few moments, Heart finally held her chest with one her left hand then pushed herself up with the other. 

                A clear brook was by the foot of the sloping earth, relatively easy for Heart to push her way down. _"They are definitely going to want to know why I'm covered in dirt…" _she told herself as she tried not to think of the resounding soreness that lingered in her body. Heart immediately kneeled by the side of the brook, scooping up the cold water with both her hands then consequently splashing it on her face. She did it again, and again, and then again, relishing the comfort that the water dealt.

                Heart looked up, noticing how fast the sky seemed to have changed from bright gold to hazy gray and blue. The wind was cooler now, almost icy against her wet skin. A hand then grabbed her shoulder from behind, making her cry out and turn. "Heart it's me!" 

"Mark? What…what?"   

"What happened? You look…" 

"It's nothing, I just…tripped on my way down. Jogging is bad." 

"Are you okay?" he asked, not letting his suspicion get the best of him, she did look ruffled up after all. Mark was always the one to make anyone laugh with a witty remark and a perennial half-smile, but those days, neither of those were common. 

"…Yeah, maybe just a little scratch here and there…" 

"…Want me to kiss it to make it better?" Mark asked, causing Heart to laugh a bit and playfully slap him on his arm. 

"I…was in the library, looking over books that could possibly tell me what's wrong." 

"…"

"Nothing I found suits you, especially in your condition. Plus, teenagers suffering chest attacks aren't really prone to…uh, any big dangers." 

"Oh." His words gave her a quick air of relief, even though it was just moments ago that she felt like her heart would erupt from her chest. 

"…But…I still think that it isn't a good idea keeping this to ourselves." 

"…"

"Heart, I…" 

"Did you, uh, like the dinner last night? My mom makes such great Seafood Caesar doesn't she?" heart quickly changed the subject.  

"…Yeah, the salad was great."

"…" Heart nodded and turned away. She didn't want to look into his eyes, riddled with concern for her. _"God, maybe it was a mistake telling him about this…but he'd figure it out sooner or later…"_ Heart's eyes traveled back to the tranquil water, beckoning her to loose herself in its cold embrace. _"If this thing inside me doesn't…leave, then mom and dad will surely catch on too." _  

                Heart then felt Mark's arms around her waist as he embraced her from behind. "Don't do this to yourself Heart. This isn't your fault. There's nothing to be ashamed of." He whispered to her ear as if he just read her mind. Once again, the girl didn't reply. 

"…Heart?" 

"…"

"I'm taking you to Raccoon City, maybe you can get treatment there without your parents knowing." 

"…No, Mark, no." 

"Why not?" 

"Do you know how expensive everything in Raccoon city is ever since it was rebuilt by the Bio-Ethics Corporation? And my parents and their friends even have monuments there…" 

"Then I'll take you to Toluca Lake, they have a great clinic by the old hotel right?"

"Mark, just don't, I swear, I'm fine. This is just…a thing, maybe I just get too stressed out, you know?" 

"Stress doesn't do this to you." 

"Well, maybe stress evolved into a genetic mutation or something." 

"…That's not funny."

"That's what dad would say." 

"…"

"You just worry too much."

"And you don't worry at all."  

"…Isn't Toluca Lake supposed to be haunted and everything?" 

"Hmm?"

"You know, the old stories where ships get lost and no sign of them ever get seen again. They say that a whole ton of people are under those waters." 

"You've been playing too much videogames." 

"And you need to be playing more."    

                Jill shut off her cell phone and put it on the table. Chris was staring right at her. "She isn't home yet." Jill reported to him with both a worried and reprimanding look on her face. "Did you try her cell?" Chris asked, finishing the last piece of California Maki on his plate. "Yeah, I can't connect to her. I don't think that there's any network coverage where ever she is." 

"Then she's probably in the forest again." 

"Probably." Jill said as she pushed back her hair. The seats and the table that they occupied were both lime green, as was all of the other furniture of Bon Appetit. Jill wore a blue blazer over a sky blue shirt, and a pair of denim pants. Her husband wore a green, collared shirt tucked into his black slacks. 

"You have to trust the girl, Jill." 

"I do! I just…don't trust the fact that she's always alone with her boyfriend." 

"We raised our kid well." 

"…But…"

"And she knows that you'd kick her ass if her stomach ever gets bigger than it naturally should be."

"…Yeah, I guess you're right." 

"Right as sushi." 

"Huh?" 

"Nothing." 

"Oh?"

"Uh-huh."

"I'm banning you from sugar."

"But sugar is my friend." 

"No it isn't." 

"Sugar tells me to put things to sleep."

"I'm armed." 

"I'll shut up now." 

                Heart sat on the grass, leaning on Mark who kept her hands around her from behind; he was sitting as well. They hadn't moved since earlier, because he didn't want Heart to have to walk a long distance especially with the way she looked. It was as if something was inside, eating her, taking away her radiance and replacing it with an air of melancholy that not even love could hope to overcome. Miracles don't always happen.   

Author's note: Okay, so I like fantasy stuff (I'm not obsessed so don't expect to see me actually dress up as an elf or something). Well, that's that for now, until next time. See ya! 


	3. Existence Beyond Perception

Author's note: Hey, here's the next thingie to the thingie. 

Zac: Thanks for the suggestion, but I've really been trained (and I personally like) going into detail. 

Unknown: Uh-huh. Though I don't know if there are two "c"s there because I got too lazy to find out.

Melina: The first time I ever got that reaction. Thanks. 

Frenchy: No problem, babe. Okay, so how many times have I called you babe?

Tek: Thanks. 

GandalftheGray: _"…Clenches the feet of fools…" _

Chapter 3: "Existence Beyond Perception" 

                Mark looked outside the window, past a small pot with fake soil and a heart shaped flower protruding henceforth, and into the still, blue sky. He was leaning on his study table, which was propped exactly beside the window, such that Mark could cartwheel out of the room and right into the yard. A few paces away from the window, still on the same blue tinted wall, was his cabinet where he kept his clothes, while stuck on the wall in front of where Mark sat, was attached an upper hand cabinet, where he kept the trinkets that he found interesting to collect through the years. Opposite that wall were his bed, plain, blue and yellow. 

_"…Why won't you tell them?" _he thought, turning his head as to rub his cheek on the sleeve of his loose, yellow shirt, faded as usual. _"If…I tell Heart's parents, how would she react? Would she get angry? Would they think it's my fault that their daughter has this…disease?" _He pushed himself away from his softwood study table and moved over to the door.

 If one would take a look through the frame of the entry, you wouldn't see posters of bands and school banners, you'd see the interior design sketches of Heart that were given to him. She loved to draw, from the simplest things to those that are beyond complex. Mark always smiled when he laid his eyes on those pictures, some on bond paper, while others were torn off notebook pages. 

_"Every person has a role in this world. Is it…my role to let them know… even if Heart would hate me in the process?_ _Maybe…okay, I must be overreacting. This…God wouldn't do this, not to someone like her." _Mark let out a loud groan and fell back on the side of his bed, sure to still face the window. 

                Heart stayed awake all evening, and still hadn't found the comfort of rest that early morning. She was afraid to go to sleep. _"What if it would come for me then?" _she thought as she shifted her weight. The idea of closing her eyes to sleep, and then never, ever waking up, frightened her beyond imagination. She never did admit that her biggest fear then was dying. It was the same for everyone who always had so much to live for. 

The same sentiments and complaints, tears and lament to the unseen who could do nothing but listen. Heart thought that it was utterly laughable, to be the child of parents whom survived the stale breath of death for thousands of times, yet she herself could not bear to face a single brush with one. It made her shrink, to think that she could never live up to her name because she knowingly embraced the legacy that it held. 

_"Mom and dad deserve someone more than me…" _she thought both bitterly and sadly. _"Why did it have to be them? Why does everyone around me have to be so perfect, while I'm…like this?" _she thought, asking no one in particular. It was a debilitating feeling, unworthiness. It made her question why she came into this world. Was she there to prove nothing but torment the people who stood by her? _"…Is somebody up there? Is somebody listening? Out there, past those clouds…is somebody laughing at my miserable existence right now?" _      

"Books are outdated, Chris." Jill greeted as she entered the room. It was a rectangular lounge, with the door in the corner. There were two armchairs and a sofa that were plain, black leather surrounding a rectangular, glass coffee table that had black posts lifting up the glass cover from a body that could be doubled as a small cabinet. No a carpet covered the polished floorboards, while a bust of an old, bald man sat against a wall opposite the partition adjacent to the door. Behind the couch was hung a painting of a valley, with green and blue being the dominant colors. Glass made up most of the wall where the couch faced, pouring in both a view and a healthy dose of sunlight. 

"Only to the brainless my dear, charming wife." Chris responded as he kept his eyes glued on the thick, paperback of The Phantom of the Opera as he sat on the couch. He wore a fitted, gray lounge shirt and black pants.  

"You should thank God that it's too early for me too kick your ass." Replied Jill, who wore a white bathrobe.

"Already did, the second you didn't jump up and kick me through the wall."

"So pious."

"Had to talk to someone crammed up in that hellhole, remember?"

"Oh yeah, the whole tram incident." 

"Damn zombie dogs." 

"No better way to say it." 

"You know, I never noticed how….there only seemed to be Doberman zombies in Raccoon city, no Chihuahuas, no Japanese Shiatsus…" 

"Hmm…you're right."

"And that my sister and that cop fellow got into the city even when it was boarded up like hell…"

"Uh-huh?"

"Or the…" 

"You should really get back to that book now." 

"Hehe." Chris loudly teased her, as she sat on the arm of the couch. 

"Is Heart still in her room?"

"Last I checked."

"Which was?"

"About ten minutes ago."

"She's usually such an early riser." 

"She jogged for a few hours, she'd probably be asleep until ten." 

"…I'll check up on her. You fix breakfast."  

                Jill pushed back her hair as she walked with fast strides to her daughter's room on the second floor of the house. It was amazing how hard it was to raise a child compared to escaping a city plagued by the undead. "Heart?" she called just as she got to the second floor. "Yeah?" heart asked as she opened her door to meet her mother in the hall. "What have you been doing in there all morning?" Jill questioned as she peered into her daughter's room. "I'm not doing drugs, I'm not keeping a guy in my closet, and no, I'm not pregnant." Heart replied, rolling her eyes. The girl still wore a white, shirt bra and panties of the same color. 

"You haven't eaten yet." Jill responded after she was sure that everything was normal in the room from her view. 

"That's okay, I have sluggishly low metabolism anyway." 

"Not an excuse, sweetie."

"…Mom?" 

"Yeah?"

"…You know I love you right?" Heart asked, catching Jill off guard. It was the first time that she had ever heard her daughter speak that way. Her expression was serious, giving Jill a sense of urgency to a yet unseen situation. 

"…Heart…? Of course I do." Jill replied, holding her daughter's cheek. Heart nodded silently, her eyes on the floor. "Is…something wrong?" Jill asked her, with a thousand other questions now beginning to flood her mind. "No…nothing, I just had a bad dream, that's all." Heart replied after a moment of silence, feeling uncomfortable with the situation. 

"Do you…"

"No." Heart immediately cut her mother; of course she didn't want to share what it was. The girl always was closer in emotion to her father. That was probably because Jill and Chris were entirely different people, with Jill being the personification of restriction, while Chris was the complete opposite. He was loose, carefree, almost childish, making him the one Heart would talk to in case there was an emergency. At that time, Heart didn't really know what it was that took over her, to hint to her mother that all was not well. 

"Mom, I have to go, I'm meeting Mark in the park at noon, and it's already…well, noonish." 

"…Do you need a ride?"

"I can drive." Heart replied, forcing a smile. Without waiting for an answer, the girl went back into her room, closing the door as abruptly as ending the conversation. Jill could only stand outside and wonder what it was that had just happened.  Now it was her turn to doubt the folds of reality.

                Stoneville Park bustled with life, both organic and inorganic, testament to the flow and falter of technology. Glass partitions projected message boards, advertisements and maps of every size and color were scattered around the busy plaza. Unlike most other days, the sun had already come out of its shy cornucopia, giving the area a golden tint onto it. From above, one would see the park in its entirety as a sweeping shot of grandeur, clearly unlike the Stoneville of old. The main portion of the park looked like a dominantly white cross, surrounded by tall trees. Surrounding this cross and criss-crossing through the sea of greenery were tiny streams of cemented paths and clearings, making it look all too much like a city with trees as skyscrapers and buildings.

                Heart sat on a bench facing a clear blue river. She could see a young couple leaning over the railing, holding hands and whispering sweet nothings into each other's ear. An elderly man was sitting on a bench beside where Heart was, and he was looking down on a sketchpad, working on the landscape of the area. It was an exact copy, substituting the bright colors for those of coal and gray. Trees shaded the benches, while the very same ancient structures, shaded the other end of the river, which was already a portion of grasslands. The railings and the floor were a mixture of Old English and futuristic architecture, with the former feature being more dominant in those smaller areas of the park. 

                The sound of the water rushing to its unending course, the birds singing as if it were dawn, and the smell of nature, it was always enough to calm the young girl. She felt that she was in control, she had to, or else she'd most probably have long lost her mind. Heart wore a long, green jacket that reached the back of her ankles. Beneath it was a red tank top, and a pair of black denim pants. A green beret was nestled comfortably atop her laid down hair, and a pink scarf was hung around her neck. 

"Heart." Greeted the familiar voice that soothed her soul. 

"Mark." She replied, lifting up her cheek a bit so that her boyfriend could give her a soft kiss. He sat down beside her, letting out a loud sigh as he did. 

"Anything wrong?" Heart asked. 

"No…just tired." 

"…" She turned to look at him, staring into the water like he was in some trance. That was always the way he looked when he was tired beyond comprehension. He wore a white NAUTICA jacket, with a yellow shirt and a pair of denim shorts that reached past his knees, underneath. 

"Heart?"

"Yeah?" 

"You look beautiful." He softly reminded her, giving her a smile that took over her Heart. "…Thank you." She replied, giggling like a schoolgirl, as if she never got used to the fact that she truly was a sight to behold. 

"Want to…get something to eat?" Mark asked her. 

"…Yeah…but, can't we…sit here for awhile…?"

"Okay." 

"…"

"What's bothering you?"

"Other than the popping sensation under my sternum?" Heart replied in a sarcastic tone. 

"…Sorry…that was a stupid question."

"…No, God, I'm sorry, I'm just…"

"…"

"Mark?"

"…Yeah?" 

"I…really have this feeling…that, that this thing inside me…won't go away."

"Don't say that."

"But I really think..."

"Well, I don't!" Mark snapped, quite possibly for the first time in his life. 

"…"

"Heart…we should just tell them, they aren't going to kill you for it." 

"No…this is my problem, I'm solving this myself."

"You're not the only one being affected by this Heart…"  

"…Just promise me, Mark…"

"…What is it?" 

"You'll be beside me in the end."

"…Of course…and that…that won't be coming for a very long time." 

Author's note: How odd. Well, if it won't bother you too much, tell me what you guys think. I hope you enjoyed and now, I'm going off to the national museum to classify dead plants. 


	4. Every Swirl

Author's note: Here's the next chapter of my new pet story. (The first was Thieves of Dawn) So for all the people getting irritated by Heart's stubbornness, there may be a hint of a reason scattered in here somewhere, ideally near the end. Also, there's a little philosophy involved this time around, so if you're not a fan of that, I'm sorry, but it's going to be limited to only a few chapters, and aren't that big a deal. 

Linda: Glad to hear you like the story.

RogueRaven21: No problem. 

BooMiEtAng / sweetsorrow: Hey, I like getting to know people too. Want to chat sometime? (Or something to that extent?) 

Melina: You think Mark's sweet? Yay. The truth is, this story, or something almost like it, happened to my girlfriend one time (she didn't have a virus, just a big problem) and I kind of put in what Mark does/think as what I did/thought back then.  (I'm a big flirt aren't I?) 

Frenchy: Your powers once again shrivel me up a wall my dear. You win a spiked hammock. 

Spiked Kurrow: Thanks. 

Chapter 4: "Every Swirl" 

_"Why don't I just tell them? No…no…God I'm so stubborn. Why am I so afraid? Mark's right…this isn't my fault…is it? What if it was because of that night? It all started then…maybe…if it was…then they never should know. It probably did…well if it did then it's his fault! No! No it isn't! Don't blame Mark…don't!" _Heart had her hand under Mark's as they sat on the bench in utter silence. People say that there's a point in a couple's relationship that even the most silent moment would be cherished, just as long as you have that person's hand with your own. They reached that level long ago, but now, with the stress that they carried, both of them are now finding a hard time to adjust to the silence. 

"…Does spaghetti still sound good?" Mark asked her, wishing to break the veil between them. 

"…Yeah…yeah…" Heart responded whilst nodding, still looking in the distance. 

"…" Without replying, Mark stood up, his hand still holding hers, and gently helped her up. It killed him inside to see his girlfriend like this. To him, the term really didn't do any justice. She was something more, a reason to breathe, his reason to live. 

"Mark?"

"Yeah?" 

"Thank you for understanding." 

"…" 

                Jill hadn't even changed her clothes from earlier that day. She knew it in her gut, something was definitely going on with her daughter. At least right now, she was certain that it wasn't her studies, since school would only start a few months from then. She was seated on the couch, in the massive room where there was a sweeping view of the lake. 

_"What's going on, here?" _she thought to herself. _"Maybe it's just a phase. All teenagers go through it." _Jill was a perfectionist. She analyzed the situation, calculated the risks, and threw every challenge that came up to her overboard. This was a situation she couldn't get rid of with a big gun. _"I hope she's not pregnant, because if she is, I am going on a killing spree." _       

                She pushed back her hair and pushed away the shoulder of her bathrobe, revealing the scarred skin by her collarbone. Jill traced a finger along the sewn skin, remembering the horrors that befell them more than a decade ago. Yes, she was a good person, a good mother, a role model. But scars like what she had taught her that there is always something to hide from. She was the protector, a very, very zealous one. 

"You look dead serious over there." Greeted Chris as he walked to the couch. "Something the matter?" 

"Just thinking about what Heart told me a little earlier."

"…You know, she's just a kid. She's got her insecurities." 

"…I know. It's just that…"

"You're getting insecure now?"

"Jackpot." 

"…"

"I can't help but think that…I don't know, I push her into a hole." 

"No you don't."

"…"

"Just talk to her. It's okay, you know?" 

"…Maybe I should. I just have no clue as to what to say."  

"Talk about videogames." 

"No chance in hell."

"Come on Jill…"

"Well, what do I say? It's not like I know anything about those games that she play."

"…"

"What is it…SIMS?"

"At least you got the title."

"She did keep on begging." 

"Oh yeah.

"You owe me fifty dollars."

"…Do you want me to talk to her?" 

"…It's me she feels detached from, we both know that." 

"…She doesn't feel that way."

"Yes, she does. She never doubted what you feel for her. She knows that you'd do anything to protect her. She doesn't feel the same way about me. She thinks…I'm some slave driver."

"…Maybe you're acting like you are, and you just don't realize it." 

"Do you realize it?"

"I see a woman who cares for her child with her whole heart." 

"…So you do." 

"…"  

                The afternoon sun was beginning to sink, painting the sky with pink and orange streaks. By that time, mechanically crafted will o' wisps, called nanotechs, lit up the area, flying around like real organisms would. It was something Heart loved, even though she knew that it wasn't entirely real; and Mark knew that. She always wanted to be there when nightfall came, and he always brought her. He held her hand, never letting it go as much as he could. She felt that something horribly wrong was about to go on, and he felt it as well. She knew the reason why, and he had never thought of it.               

                _"What if I'm to blame, and I just don't know it?" _he asked himself silently as they walked the serene park. _"No way. I never did anything to Heart." _Mark took a deep breath and closed his eyes for a moment. _"I'm going to betray her. But what is it that she's hiding? There has got to be something more than she's letting me onto. I can't believe she could be this stubborn." _He thought as he turned to look at her. She turned to face him as well, and she simply smiled at him. Mark loved seeing her smile.   

                _"He's going to tell them. I know it." _Heart convinced herself as they walked, trying her best not to let Mark into what it was she was thinking. _"…Things always have a way of working out, don't they? Maybe you're my answer." _She held his hand tighter. _"What if I can't stop this? Mom and dad are sure to figure things out; anyway…maybe…Mark is the one who is going to tell them. I did everything I can to hide it…and it's out of my power if Mark decides to tell them, then they'd have to solve this. No. No, I can't let them…know."_ A sudden, sharp intake of breath disrupted the girl's jumbled thoughts. 

"Heart!" Mark cried, as the girl collapsed to her side, where he was thankfully able to catch her. A few passersby stopped and looked, then resumed their way but seconds later. "Heart, what happened? Are you okay?" he asked her as he lifted her up. She looked dazed, but it was like she was regaining composure as she slowly pushed herself away from Mark, so to stand on her two feet. 

"What happened?" he asked, probably more frantic than she was. 

                It was different this time. As if all of a sudden, her strength just got siphoned out of her, usurped into some black hole in her system. At the very least, she didn't feel as much pain as she did before. "I'm okay." She replied, still catching her breath. "Heart…we can't go on like this." 

"…We?"

"Heart…" 

"Listen Mark, I don't want you going of into some litany that we should tell mom and dad again, okay?" she snapped, practically ignorant of the fact that she just collapsed. _"I might lose you if I tell them…" _she thought inwardly, behind the strong façade. 

"But Heart, this is getting too difficult for just the both of us to handle." He rebutted, half-yelling and half-whispering at the same time. 

"Well, I never asked you to help me, did I?" She snapped, inadvertently letting her frustration get the better of her once again.  

"…" Mark stepped away silently. 

_"Oh God, what did I just say?" _Heart panicked inwardly, speechless as she saw the clear hurt etched in Mark's face. "Alright, fine." Mark replied bitterly, turning around and walking away. Heat called for him to come back, and he wanted to. Even at that moment, he knew that he couldn't stay mad. He just couldn't bear the fact that never in his life has he been appreciated by the people around him.

                Moonlight already peered down the park, which shone with the brightest lights to offer a reply. Even the ground was rigged with a soft light, as if there was something bright shining underneath the marble. Heart found herself sitting down, in front of a central fountain that shone with every color a rainbow had. All their lives, neither on of them has ever fought with each other before. 

She only just realized how much her mistakes piled on and onto mark, until finally he would just get sick of it all. _"…If everything is because of that night, then this must be for the better. He won't be there when they find out, and they wouldn't have to blame him. Now's the only time I can tell them." _She thought, as she ignored that sporadic feeling of utter discomfort coming from her chest. That night was the only real reason that she could think of. She knew that her metabolism was weak, and that any form of drug could easily get the better of her. She just wished now that she kept that in mind that wild night she spent with Mark, where both of them were subjected to their own weaknesses.  

                Jill couldn't keep her mind on the book that she was now reading. Her husband told her that books could help alleviate stress, but at that time, it really didn't seem to work. Besides, the book she read wasn't really giving her any positive insight in life, especially since it's about Skinner's theory in the non-existence of freedom. She never thought her husband could collect so many books, some of which were gifts from the people that he saved from certain life-threatening problems. He should just be happy that she never encountered a copy of Kama Sutra.  

_"There is no such thing as freedom. Why so? This is because all our actions are determined by negative and positive reinforcements that dictate our next move. For example, if you walk down the hall and see somebody familiar. You wave him hello, and for some reason, he punches you in reply, then heads off cursing the sky, will say hi to him again the next time you meet? That is a negative reinforcement that hinders action. On the other hand, if you meet somebody special who genuinely likes being complemented, will you not do it again the next time you and that person meet, especially if he or she reciprocates the feeling? That is a positive reinforcement."_

_"So why do we perceive that we are free? What makes us believe in the idea that we can do whatever it is we want? This is simply being content. For example, if we live in a just and humane society, where no rights are ever violated, one would think that there, you would be free from social ills, and thus conform to the notion of liberty. But aren't they still ruled by a governing body? Are there not laws that tell you to be devoid of any social ills? If so, then is there really freedom? No. The people are just content, thus they will not revolt, and call for freedom, which is just a call for their rights to be heard."   _

Jill closed the book and threw it down the couch. _"That just made me feel good about life…" _she thought sarcastically as she got up and stretched, now dressed in a blue top and a black blouse. She paced the room, with the fire cackling at the opposite end of where she was. The thought of humanity lacking any sort of freedom because tickled her mind, but it wasn't enough for her to leave the subject of her daughter.  _"It's almost seven, where could that girl be?" _she thought, her concern once again drilling against her consciousness. As usual, the girl's cellular phone was unattended, much to her mother's chagrin. _"What's the point of her begging for a phone if she always keeps it turned off?" _she thought angrily as she continued to pace. All of a sudden, the phone rang, cutting Jill off from her train of thought. After about three rings, she finally made it to the phone. 

"Hello?"

"Jill!" 

"…Rebecca?" 

"Yes, something happened." Panic was evident in the doctor's voice.

"Something, what? Slow down…" Jill coaxed, getting worried at her friend's grave demeanor.

"Heart got into an accident." Rebecca replied after a moment of silence. At that moment, time stopped, and every swirl flew around Jill's being.     

Author's note: What? The chapter's finished? Seriously uncool. Don't worry, the philosophy is there for some little reason in the whole story, just a point in the many confusing ones there are. I hope you like this chapter, the next one's pretty soon, promise. So until next time. And you all can call me Karl if you like. Oh, and Frenchy, still waiting for your fanfics! 


	5. Stars and Shadows

Author's note: Yay for me, I updated! Pretty short, but all the depression comes later. 

Linda: Hey sure, you can put my fic in your website, sorry but you're mail kind of got, um, deleted.

Raven: Don't worry, college and high strung could mix for some very good results. 

Tek: Cliffhangers are nice. Or I could just go "She's dead. The end.", which would suck. 

Anonymous: Thanks.

Frenchy: Yes honey, the spiked hammock is all the rage, and then some. And hey, I like it on your back, kind of soft and corrosive at the same time. Hey, how's the negative impact of the Californian Gold rush on the American social system doing for you? It kind of sounds better than my 'Health benefits of Spirulina consumption to the obese individual in a dietary scale.' I officially hate cyano-bacteria. 

Chapter 5: "Stars and Shadows" 

                Jill and Chris rushed through the white halls, anxious to see their daughter. It was but moments ago that the haunting words crept into Jill's ear, words that she wished she never did hear. She could still feel her legs buckle and shake just like they did when Rebecca gave her the news. The thought of losing the teen-aged girl was something that neither one of them could possibly handle. After a few more doors, they finally reached the room where Heart was being kept. Once again, Jill was greeted with a vision that she wished she never did see, and the very same could be said for Chris. 

                Heart was motionless, clad in white, and set up to numerous machines that are instrumental in keeping her alive. Her face was bruised, but not deformed in any way. At the very least, she still kept her beauty, even in her current state.  Rebecca stood over the girl; practically unchanged since the Raccoon city incident, save her eyes carry the wisdom of time that was clear in the hands of all the healers. Her lab gown covered almost the entirety of her body. "What happened?" was Chris' immediate question, while Jill took the time to rush by her daughter's side. 

"Her car…well, she hit a pole…hard."

"That did this to her?" Chris asked in a somewhat sarcastic tone, revealing glimpses of the nature he once had when trying to survive. 

"No, the pole didn't do it…it was something else. We think that she fell asleep on the wheel." 

"What do you mean, she fell asleep on the wheel?" Jill asked, unable to control the tone of her voice. 

"There wasn't a concussion, meaning that her seatbelt did its job, she got away with just a few bruises…and there's no real internal damage, I mean, lungs, tracts, just a little torn muscle around her radio ulna and some scathing in the gracillis minor…but her system…something's wrong inside of her. It's not physical…I think it's chemical. " Rebecca explained, as best as she could. It tore her inside to see her two best friends like this, so utterly helpless against a new form of diversity. 

"Well what is it?" Jill asked frantically, brushing her child's hair. 

"I'm…still …we're still taking care of the situation, studying a blood sample and…"

"Why all this?"

"Uh, what?"

"If nothing's wrong with her system then why are all these…things attached to her!?" 

"…She's having…"

"What?" 

"There's some problems in breathing…and…and…" Rebecca stuttered. It wasn't true that all veteran healers were as cold as stone. At most, they hid behind countless papers and memorized terms to hide their fears. Their sadness. It was protocol not to get too close to a patient emotionally, it almost never turns out well. Rebecca had her share of deaths and personal insecurities, but none of those patients were the child of the people who helped her survive. "…It could be…her system may have been poisoned." 

"What? Who…did somebody do this to her!?"

"We don't know."  

"Jill…" Chris tried to soothe her, but he wasn't even able to do so for himself, much more for his wife. 

"Heart!" suddenly interrupted a familiar voice. 

                In an instant, Mark came rushing into the room, joining Jill by the girl's side. He had more panic laced into his face than Jill or Chris. "What…?" he was going to ask the same question but Jill immediately cut him off by pushing him away. "You were supposed to be with her!" she cried at the young man, depressing Mark into a further state of subconscious horror. 

"Jill, get a hold of yourself, Heart isn't dead, alright?" Chris chided, grabbing Jill by the arms and looking deep into her eyes. They shared the very same sentiments, they just express it in very different ways. "…How can you be so calm right now?"

"Because hysteria won't make it go away. You know that." He replied sternly. 

"…" Jill's frustrated expression gave way, little by little, and just a short while later, she broke down, digging her face in Chris' shoulder. 

                All the time, Mark stood in the corner, unable to find himself any possible way to get inside. These people shared so much together, everyone knew that, and he knew he was now different in their eyes. Ever since he felt a special bond grow between himself and Heart, everything for him changed. Now, he felt uneasy, not only because of Heart's condition, not because of the ramifications that destiny may have held the fifteen minutes they were apart, but because of the fact that this was a matter that he could not comprehend in the level of Chris and Jill. 

                Mark's eyes soon fell on Heart's slow breathing body. _"Oh God, I should have never left her there." _He thought as he leaned against the corner, a simple shadow in the company of the celestial bodies. _"…Shit, this is my fucking fault! If I didn't let my goddamned pride get the better of me, I could've stopped this!" _he wanted to punch himself, but he wouldn't do that in the company of others. _"God, I'm so fucking stupid…" _he banged the back of his head against the wall, slowly, so no one could notice. No one would notice anyway.  

"Jill, Chris, from what we see…Heart isn't in any real danger…" 

"…" 

"And we plan on keeping it that way. I…need to go to my lab, test the blood sample some more." 

"…" 

"It's going to be okay, I promise." She reassured, placing her hand on Jill's shoulder. 

"Becca…can we go with you?" Chris asked her. 

"Well…it's against SOP…but…we'll give you special consideration." She replied, without even the slightest hint of hesitation.  

"Mark…?" Chris called the boy, who quickly snapped into attention at the sound of his name.

"Yes sir?" he asked, afraid to meet Jill's piercing stare. 

"…Watch over her, will you?" 

"…Yes sir." He responded. The father simply nodded, and then let Rebecca lead the way to the laboratory. He felt as if his heart would explode from his chest due to all the pounding. Mark could feel the exigency emanate from the three renowned celebrities, something that was severely lacking in his system. The young man took a stool and placed it by the bed. She still smelled of the perfume that he gave her for her last birthday. 

"I'm sorry." He whispered, placing his hand on her forehead. She could be going out with an actor, or a model, perhaps a senator, but she still chose him. A boy with no talent, no face, nothing to give her. He'd often ask why, why it was that she said yes to the most awkward moment in his life. She gave him the confidence to walk out and see the sun in so many ways, and he knew, that if she ever left him, we wouldn't live, he'd simply exist. 

                A young nurse entered the room, sent by Rebecca to see to it that Heart had everything that she needed. She had a red blazer on, as it was heard to keep warm with only the white uniform that they were supposed to wear. She had red hair that reached her back, and a beautiful pale face with green eyes. "…Boyfriend?" was her immediate question the moment she saw Mark sitting by the bed. "…Yeah." He replied, smiling at the nurse in an attempt to be courteous. "You know, if you're hungry or anything, I could watch over her…" 

"That's okay, hey…same to you." 

"Uh…so, how long have you been seeing each other?"

"…Not really that long…we were childhood friends."

"Oh really?"

"Uh-huh." 

"You know, I always loved the idea…it's kind of romantic how things just suddenly…make some sort of weird sense." 

"Yeah, I know what you mean."

"…"

"…By the way, what's your name?" 

"Lisa." 

"You…uh…?" Mark asked, pointing at her ring finger that boasted a beautiful golden ring. 

"At the end of the summer."

"Childhood friend?" 

"Dream come true…you're name's Mark, right?" 

"How'd you know?"

"Well, heart is like a celebrity, and the news that she had a boyfriend really got all the guys…kind of filled with murderous rage." 

"Then I'd better not show my face in public places anymore, huh?" he replied jokingly, or at least he tried to. Lisa smiled at him, knowing full well that the young man needed to get some things clear in his head. "…Uh, hey, you look like you…still need some time alone with her."

"…That's not an excuse to get to the snack bar is it?"

"Oh, I wish."

"…"

"Hey, just…I'll be just right outside, and I'll be back later to check on her diastolic, but if something happens…just shout, okay?" 

"…Yeah, thanks."

"No problem."

"It was nice meeting you."

"Save it for when you're girlfriends' not in the hospital bed."

"Sure."       

                Chris held Jill's hand as they stood behind Rebecca, who was busy peering into a light microscope. They were the only people there, with the exception of the elderly man who was sweeping the high performance light chromatography section by the door. "Is this…some sort of new strain? A virus?" Jill asked, breaking the silence. 

"I…don't know. If it was anything from pulmonary tuberculosis to severe respiratory sickness, I could have bagged it by now, but her blood pressure, breathing…" 

"So it's something new?" Jill asked again. 

"…Well, to borrow a line, no, it maybe something old." 

"What do you mean something old?" asked Chris. 

"It may have been something undocumented…like…you know." 

"No, that's impossible." Jill was quick to interfere. 

"Look, I'm just saying that…"

"No! Umbrella is gone! It's impossible!" 

"Jill, calm down." Chris practically commanded, gripping her hand tighter. 

"…The viruses made by…them, they were the only ones that were never really studied, and especially after that stunt you pulled in the Perdition project." 

"You were there with us." Chris reminded the doctor. 

"I told you that those samples should be studied." 

"…If we got them all, then there's no reason for them to be studied, no reason for them to be made again." Chris said. 

"And we never really thought that there could still be sick people out there. That's why none of the infected were saved." Rebecca rebutted.

"They didn't have a chance." 

"Yes they did!!" Rebecca snapped, turning away from the specimen and facing the two. "…This…isn't the time for this." Rebecca said, as she returned to analyzing the sample. "…There was one virus that I treated…the one you had, Jill." 

"I still have a remembrance of that. If Carlos didn't give me that vaccine…"

"You wouldn't have made it to a real medical center in time." 

"…" 

"Too bad that it was a different physiological invader…I couldn't extract a proper cure for the victims of hunters or lickers or…or…oh my God." 

"What is it?" Jill asked, immediately alerted by the woman's quick shift. Rebecca didn't answer, as she shifted the objective lenses over and over, rotating the fine adjustment back and forth. 

"Rebecca…" Chris called urgently. The doctor leaned back and rubbed her eyes. 

"It's…back." Rebecca softly reported to Jill, who instantly knew what the cryptic words meant. She bit her lower lip and shook her head, as if the shock muted her. "…The Nemesis strain."      

Author's note: Oh no! The obvious plot twist! Okay sue me, but explanations are soon abound. Ta! 


	6. Epiphany

Author's note: Why is this story so goddamned dreary? I just don't know. I wanted to pay homage to Joss Whedon's excellent "The Body" one of my top five episodes of Buffy. It was masterful, terrifying, and is an extremely realistic portrayal of loss. I love Anya. Come to think of it, this is my favorite episode, followed by "Once More With Feeling" and then "Hush". But don't say a word about what happens next because we're only about to end season six in my country. Oh yeah, I wanted to pay homage by putting in a little scene with Jill where she panics about what is right to eat for that kind of situation, but I found it to be too much like Willow's trepidation over her clothing, so I scrapped it. 

Foamy: The chapter or the whole story? But if you meant the chapter, then yeah, I made it a dead giveaway when they started describing stuff.

Ksim: Glad to read that. 

Linda: Thanks. How's that thing going with the site?

Frenchy: But I learned that Spirulina could really do wonders for your skin AND make you lose weight. Take that gold rush, hehe. 

Melina: No problem. Is Brynhild your real name? Or did I just ask an extremely stupid question, because you have a beautiful screen name.

Tek: You can't get anymore poetic than that. 

Chapter 6: "Epiphany" 

                Jill saw it coming a mile away, but she just couldn't accept it. A disease that was eradicated from her body years ago afflicted her little girl. It was virtually impossible. "That can't be right…" she stuttered, while Chris was just staring at Rebecca in silence. "Look again…look again… there must have been a mistake!" Jill tried, pointing at the microscope. "I'm sorry Jill, but it's there…" Rebecca tried to reason. "Well, you must've looked at the wrong thing, or, or the wrong blood sample…"  Rebecca bit her lower lip, feeling horrid to be the one who had to tell it to them. Chris tried to soothe his wife, but it was to no avail. "She's wrong Chris…she, she must be…Becky, you have to look at that thing again, it must be a…" Jill shook her head, almost as if in doing so, the revelation would simply go away. "Becky…there's a way to stop it, right?" Chris asked as he let his wife rest onto him. 

"…We…I'll find I way, the technology's gone past their times now, I'm sure that…I'm sure that we can find something." Rebecca replied, trying to comfort them, even at her own lack of surety. 

"I thought that…when you treated Jill, you said it went away… right?" he then followed, prompting Jill to raise her head and look at Rebecca. It was the question that the doctor didn't want to hear. 

"…Yes…yes I…I did." She replied with a heavy heart, with the sudden realization that it was her own lack of effectiveness that led them to where they were now. She felt like she betrayed her friends, and it ate away at her. 

                His hands trembled as he sat in front of the altar. Indeed, it was a long time since Mark had entered a house of worship, particularly his very own parish. The adoration chapel was like a sanctuary, a calm place that seemed to push away the cold hands of the rest of the world. It was a small, rectangular room, with the Sacred Host propped against the wall, emblazoned with carvings of flowers and angels around it. The afternoon sunlight peered in through the glass partitions from behind where Mark knelt. _"God…I'm sorry if I haven't been here in a long time…it's just that, you know…Heart. She's hurt…real bad and I…don't know what's wrong with her…just please…God please make her better…I promise that I…won't eat meat when You say so…I'll stop jacking off just please…make her alright." _There was a childlike quality that seeped out of the young man as he poured his heart out to the silence. He was sure that somebody was listening, even though he was alone, possibly the most foolish trait that there was for people who believe in something higher. Every man to his poison. 

                After constant reiterations of the same prayer, Mark finally genuflected, and wearily left the Chapel. Deep in his heart, he didn't know what good it would do for him to talk to a piece of bread standing on top of a golden tabernacle. To anyone else, it would be insane. The sunlight poured down on his face the moment he stepped out, giving him a sense of warmth that was over too quickly as the jubilant cries of children playing in the park just across the street came to his attention. He stood by the Church gates, watching everyone from afar. It didn't take too long before the sunlight began to irritate his eyes, and he had to raise his hand to shield them. Families, couples, young and old alike, walking about and basking in the light. They were all so distant to Mark, whose only motivation was dying in a hospital bed that very moment. 

                Rebecca looked closely at the pack of close blood cells, noticing something strange with the lymphocytes. They were shifting uncontrollably, most probably already being killed off by the virus. _"The deterioration is too rapid…"_ as she watched on. _"This isn't like Jill's strain, there's something different…but how? Could it be…it must be some sort of chemical reaction in Heart's system…" _She backed away and rubbed her face, taking a deep breath as she did. It hurt her, the notion that this was all her fault. Maybe it was. If she looked deeper, perhaps she could have found the means to fully eradicate the unseen from her old friend's system. _"This is my fault." _She thought. 

                Mark crossed the street and found himself traversing the park. Everything seemed so festive, from the sunlight, to the children playing, he soon wished that he had Heart beside him. She would have been happy watching those children. With the thought of Heart in mind, the sounds of the children, the leaves and trees, all soon vanished. "Mark?" Heart asked, placing her hand on his shoulder. "What are you thinking of?" she followed, watching the children. "…You." He replied softly, smiling and giving her a kiss. "What was that for?" she asked him, somewhat surprised. "Just for being there." He closed his eyes and slammed the back of his head against a tree, not letting his imagination drift too far from reality. Caring as he was, he couldn't stand staying in that room with Jill and Chris, whom he feels has a new profound hatred for his lack of responsibility. 

"Hey, Heart." Jill whispered to her little girl as she sat by her bed, holding her hand. She leaned in closer, gently kissing Heart's forehead. "I got you that bear you said you wanted…five years ago…uh, he's just by your side, just in case you want him." She said, referring to the stuffed toy that was half Heart's size. "How's the food here anyway? What are they feeding you? I can have them put in some steak if you want…" she said. "…Look…I'm sorry that I wasn't always there for you…and I…when all of this is over…I will make sure that every moment we share is something that you'd always treasure." She told Heart, in the brink of tears. Jill leaned back as to be able to sit upright, watching her little girl. It frustrated her, knowing that she couldn't help Heart fight these inner demons, no matter how hard she would try. That was always the problem when dealing with sickness; at most times, it isn't up to the observer, even with the aid of medicine, as the outcome seems to simply rely on the strength of the victim. Jill never loved the thought of being so helpless, not knowing what was going inside Heart's body and soul. 

"Jill." Chris called as he entered the room, handing her a cup of coffee. 

"…You okay? You haven't eaten…" he said, also referring to himself. 

"…I have to look after her." Jill replied. _"It's not like she's going anywhere."_ Chris thought, much to his own disgust. 

"I'll watch over her, you go grab a bite." He offered. 

"Is anything still open this hour?" 

"Honey, everything opened five hours ago." 

"Oh. That's nice."

"…"

"Do they still have McDip? It's been awhile since I last got fast food…"

"I think it's in six flavors…I think." 

"What's her favorite flavor?" Jill asked, referring to Heart. 

"Uh…butterscotch. She goes crazy for them."

"…See, I didn't know that."     

"…"

"Chris? What kind of mother am I, if I don't even know my only daughter's favorite ice cream?" she asked him sadly, almost squealing as she did. "I don't know my only child…" Chris' face faltered as he immediately wrapped his wife in a hug, giving her more freedom to let out her tears.

"…You know, I remember when you were the laid on the bed. I panicked like hell the moment I saw you." Chris said, reminiscing their survival days. "You were in such a bad shape that I broke down in front of everyone. Some fearless leader, huh?" he joked, peering into his wife's eyes. 

"…"

"I know that Heart is going to make it, just like you made it. She's stronger, she's smarter, she's…definitely louder than both of us, and we should know well enough that she just won't take Nemesis lying down." 

"…She's lying down right now."

"Nevertheless." 

"…"

"We vowed that we would never let Umbrella get to, and this is their last chance at getting that done… even if they don't exist anymore. Believe in her. She's a survivor, just like you and me."   

"…"

                Mark unlocked the door of his home and entered, shutting out the light and sounds of the outside world as he pushed the door to a close. "Grandma, I'm back." He said, with no particular effort at actually being heard. Mark immediately went up to his room, removing his wallet and cell phone from his pants, and then taking off his shirt before he fell down on the bed. His eyes wandered to the wall where he pinned the pictures that Heart drew for him. "Mark?" asked the elderly woman as she came into his room. "Grandma, you shouldn't be walking!" the young man suddenly cried, jumping to his feet and helping his grandmother sit on his bed. "I still have some strength in these old bones of mine." She defended with a simple smile, something she has been known for. The old woman was hunched and stout, with her eyes only partially open, and her long white hair tied back. She wore a long white gown that covered her entire body, almost making her ghostlike in appearance. For a woman of her age, she had an awful lot of strength left in her. 

"But still, you should be resting." He said, getting a seat in front of his grandmother. 

"…Mark, I don't plan on shutting myself off of this world when there is only so little time I actually have left in It." She told him with a resolved smile. 

"Don't say that." 

"And what about you? You changed…overnight." 

"People don't change overnight."

"Not when it's the heart that's going through the motions. I may be old, but my senses are still sharp." 

"…Heart's in the hospital." 

"Are going figurative on me?"

"No, I mean Heart, as in my girlfriend. She's in the hospital, because I was stupid enough to leave her when I should have stayed with her until I knew she would be safe from herself." 

"How is she now?" 

"…I don't know. She's not conscious." 

"Oh. Is that why you've become a miserable mute all of a sudden?"

"Excuse me?" 

"Mark…the one thing I learned when something as troubling as this happens…is that just because they aren't conscious doesn't mean that they aren't there. If she's in the brink of losing right now, then live and be strong for both you… and her." 

"…What did you do when mom and dad died?" he asked her. 

"I cried." 

"Then maybe that's what I should do."

"She isn't dead yet."

                Mark headed for the hospital, carrying a bouquet of roses in his hand. He wore a loose, long sleeved green shirt and a pair of drawstring pants. Sometime ago, he thought that a pack of flowers or some teddy bear wouldn't matter to someone who was unconscious. It was only when it happened to Heart that he knew how much the simplest things were needed. It wasn't only for her, it was also for her family, her friends, to know how much sentiment there is in the cold world. True warmth is difficult to find. 

                Rebecca studied the sample over and over again, shocked to realize the component that triggered the virus. She took out the blood sample and placed the slide on top of her clipboard. Such a small thing, holding as much perplexities as it did answers. Now, she knew the reason why the virus came to be, unfortunately, she still didn't know how to counteract it. _"…So that's it. It's so simple…it was because of ecstasy." _She thought to herself as she stood up, running a hand through her hair. "She took ecstasy." 

Author's note: I really didn't want much dialogue in this one because problems as big as potentially losing(or indeed losing) somebody would be met with silence and guilt… but the words just came out. I hate it when that happens. And I didn't mean anything much to what I said about Faith being poison, it's just a general view that people have, and I had to put it there to reference the doubt going through the characters' minds. Oh my! Heart took drugs? IS that her secret? That's bad and wrong, you should never do that, even if you're preppy and in dire need to show off. So hey, till next time.             


	7. Oblivion

Author's note: Sorry for the long update, I was still reeling over the completion of Remember Heaven. Here is the follow-up to that apparently shocking chapter.

Bloodlover: Heart is the name of a young actress where I live, that's where I got the name from. Thanks for the comment.

Linda: Hey now, don't do that, it's okay. I mean, you can't force people to read something if they don't like to, right? I'm just glad I still have your attention. 

Soul Schulyer: That obvious, or was the review button so easily accessible? : p 

Tek: Heh, just downloaded season six until kingdom comes, can't download seven though, sad me. How's about Angel, you watch it too? 

Frenchy: Shocker! But hey, go light on the preps, I'm 90% prep, it's like, in my genes. (hey, you're 's kid brother right? It's nice to meet you! Meet my friends…) Then various flirtations and scandals ensue. I cannot count how many people I've been linked too just in this freshman year. Creepsome. 

RogueRaven: Now that is a very nice compliment. Thank you. 

Melina: Too bad it isn't your real name, it must be impossible for perfection to exist here on Earth then. Close though.  

Ksim: I hope I won't ruin anything when I say that you shouldn't worry about her.   

Chapter 7: "Oblivion" 

                Mark entered the room, immediately getting washed in a state of internal panic as he saw the three people talking right outside Heart's room. It was the same image a day ago, with Jill still distraught, and just barely hanging, while Chris had it in his eyes that he was almost about to explode. A few people passed to and fro, some in white coats and others in clad in blue, some with clipboards while others pushing defibrillators. Rebecca was telling them something important, he could tell even though he was still in a short distance. Fear always pushes the senses further. _"I have to be there for them…for everyone…" _he thought, albeit still in dread, as he watched them from where he stood. 

                Roses in hand, he approached the three older people, noticing Jill and Chris' look of mixed frustration and confusion. A precognitive voice told him that something was wrong, not with Heart, but in a way something related to himself. _"I'm paranoid." _He went closer, until Chris noticed him, giving him a stare colder than death that made Mark stop in his tracks. At that very moment, he wanted to say sorry to his paranoia and back up, but now, he was there. No turning back.  

The young man wanted to ask them what was wrong, but he convinced himself that he couldn't be ready for whatever it was that they grimaced from. Before he could gather his thoughts, Chris moved away from the conversation, cutting through Jill and Rebecca as he did, and moved straight for Mark, much to the young man's trepidation. 

"Did you know about this?" he asked in a demanding voice. His eyes were practically on fire, putting the fear of God and then some into the young man. "Chris…" Jill tried to call, but found no other words to escape her lips. "What…what are…?" Mark's voice faltered, as it usually does when he finds himself in an unexpected situation. 

"Ecstasy. Ecstasy did this to her." Chris said with a wolf-like scowl, inching closer to Mark. The young man's mind refused to budge for a second, as the words passed through his senses. "…"

"Did you hear what I just said!?" Chris asked him, practically shouting at him, making him snap back to himself. "…I…we…"

"…" Chris held his breath, waiting for a sign of coherence from the young man. Mark's mind traveled back to just before Heart's sixteenth birthday, the night that they spent together unbeknownst to their families. The rapid beating, the constant moving, the flashing lights came back to him, and in an instant, he realized why Heart didn't want to mention anything. She knew what it was that did it. Her boyfriend. Herself. "…We did it. We…took…we…" 

                Mark's mind traced back to that night, when it was in one of Stoneville's wildest nightspots, "The Bronze", that they decided to go. Bright yellow lights poured down from the ceiling covering them as they danced. Mark could clearly recall everything about Heart that night, from her pink knit top to her revealing black skirt. It was packed, so they practically felt everyone else's skin on their own, making the heat even more intense. Techno and industrial music pounded at them, making the ground vibrate with the force. Mark wore a sleeveless gray shirt with a black cross emblazoned on it, and a pair Capri pants. They had their friends along, two more couples who were together before they were. 

"…We weren't thinking…" Mark whispered as he dug farther back. The night carried on, sweaty, wild, it was the life of a teenager. That was then one of their friends begun to take the medicine out, small round tablets, violet in color, with smiley faces engraved on them. _"Take some."_ One of them said. Of the friends, Mark and Heart were the youngest, but not necessarily the least wise. _"I…don't think so." _Heart responded. _"Where'd you get that?" _Mark asked, a stupid question since it also meant how much his interest was piqued. _"Some friends of mine…" _he replied, garnering a giggle from his blonde, pig-tailed girlfriend. _"Come on…hey Mark, I know you want some."_ He offered with a sly grin. 

"I…told her that…" Mark closed his eyes, regretting that night. A sudden monotonous noise came from Heart's room, interrupting the young man's confession. "She's flatlined!" Screamed a nurse, prompting Jill and Rebecca to rush into the room. Chris stared down Mark for a moment, before joining the others inside the room. "What happened!?" Rebecca yelled to anyone with an answer, drawing blanks. "Her heart, I think it stopped…it just stopped…" responded Lisa, the nurse in charge. 

                A young man pushed in the defibrillators right beside Rebecca, and consequently prepping it for the doctor's use. "Wait…" Rebecca ordered. "Excuse me, ma'am, she's dying…" the young man objected. "Who is the doctor here?" she snapped back, shutting him up in the process. "What's happening!?" Jill shouted over the haunting tone of the dead lifeline. "Calm down, Jill." Rebecca replied sternly. It was times like those that her authoritarian means became clearer. "Give me my kit." She ordered Lisa, who sprinted outside to the doctor's office, which was nearby. "Move over, I'm giving her CPR." She said, pushing the others away.  "Come on Heart, don't give up on me…" she urged the child as she began to apply pressure to the girl's chest. 

                Mark stood outside, capable of nothing but to watch the proceedings in horror. He didn't know how one single drug could have done it, but he knew now for certain that it was because of him that Heart was laid there. She was trying to defend him and he never knew it. His mind was in constant flux, so much that he stopped moving altogether. The night in "The Bronze" flashed back in his mind over and over again. _"Come on Mark…it's just one little tablet…it won't hurt you. Hell it'll make you feel a hell of a lot better." _The girl coaxed, winking at Heart at the same time. Mark gave Heart a look that both pleaded for forgiveness, as well as an offering for her to say yes as well. She always trusted him, and he felt the same way about her. 

_"Okay, I'll try it." _Mark said, taking a tablet from his friend. He arched his head back and swallowed the tablet. He shook his head right thereafter in response to the tingling sensation he almost instantly had inside. _"Here's for her…" _coaxed the girl, handing Mark another one. _"Heart…" _Mark offered whilst gasping, it was his moment of weakness. _"Usual tablets take about 20 minutes before you can feel the heat babes, but this thing, it's different. It'll make you hot in a second." _ 

                Moments later, heat overcame the young couple, after Mark was able to force the reluctant girl to say yes. _"It's a macho thing." _His friend said right before the sweeping lights practically burned at their flesh. Flashes of chills then hot spurs came all over them as they began to sweat further, and soon, Mark stripped his shirt off, slinging it over his shoulder. He pulled Heart closer, who herself couldn't object, and passionately kissed her. 

It wasn't an effect of ecstasy, it was an effect of well-being. In response, Heart ran her hands over her boyfriend's chest, she herself not knowing her stand on the situation. She didn't like it, but she didn't stop it. Neither of them did. They began to get thirsty, but drew refreshment from each other. Their kiss became wilder, harder, as the need for their teeth to grind and their jaws to cramp overwhelmed them. _"It's like an MDA…it shoots up to the brain and opens the fucking doors…you won't be able to hold back…" _Soon, he had Heart undressed as well, revealing a body that was too shapely for anyone to realize that she was just about to turn sixteen. _"Let it go…."  _  

"I have it!" Lisa yelled as she got back into the room, pushing past Mark as if he wasn't there. "Okay, good." Rebecca took the black handbag and took out an injection, filling it with a white serum used for resuscitation. "Okay…" she immediately stabbed the needle right into the girl's Heart, pouring the serum straight inside. 

Jill and Chris looked on in trepidation, never has either of them been so scared in their lives. As if on cue, her lifeline began to beep again, drawing relieved gasps of air from everyone in attendance. "She's fine." Rebecca whispered with an exasperated smile, turning to find the same expression in Jill's face. "…Chris, what is it? She's okay…" the doctor said, her smile fading as she recognized the dead serious look that Chris gave. "…No, she isn't." he said through gritted teeth. With that he turned and walked up to Mark. 

"Piece of shit." He uttered, before slamming his fist right across the young man's face. The roses dropped onto the floor, soon trampled by both men. Cries of surprise came from the people inside the room as Mark fell back with a loud cry of pain. It was only a second that his focus shifted from Chris, to the bright lights in front of him, as well as to the stabbing pain he had on his jaw. "Chris!" Jill called as her husband went out the room to forcefully pick Mark up, and then slam him against the near wall, breaking a directional glass plate against the back of the young man's head from the intensity. "Little piece of shit!" he reiterated, right in Mark's face.   

A sharp gasp of air left Mark's lips as the numbing pain coursed across his body. He could feel the warm red fluid trickle down the back of his head. Now his lip, as well as the back of his head was already bleeding. "You will never, ever, go near my daughter again, do you understand me!?" he demanded, as Rebecca and the male nurse, along with his wife, tried desperately to pull him away. 

"I trusted you!" he yelled one more time before he was finally pried away from the kid. "Chris, stop this, just stop this…" his wife scolded him as he tried to go back and push Mark into oblivion. He heard the same synonymous requests from the other people around him, forcing him to push  his anger back inside. 

_"It's just one little tablet, come on, what harm is it going to do to you?" _

Mark staggered to his feat, bleeding inside and out. He leaned on the wall, unable to fully stand because of the slug that he got straight to his jaw. There was more pain in ruining something you had with somebody more than getting beaten. For a second, Jill felt sorry for the young man as she saw the confusion in his face. There was no rage, just fear. Probably why he didn't fight back. He couldn't. He had no idea with what was happening around him. He stuttered, probably trying to ask what just happened, how could one little drug cause all this, but hard as he tried, he couldn't form a single coherent sentence. "Go away, Mark." Jill sternly ordered. 

"I…I…" he tried to object, he wanted to be with Heart. "Leave, now, before I hurt you myself." She demanded through gritted teeth. "…You…you should listen to her…" Lisa added with a look of concern etched in her face. "Please…just go." She didn't know what was happening, but she knew full well that if he stayed, he could get himself injured even more than he already was. 

                His eyes shifted, from Jill to Chris, from Rebecca to Lisa and then to the crushed flowers that he had just bought, and then he knew that he wasn't wanted there anymore. "I'm sorry." He whispered, on the verge of tears, before he ran away. It was a culmination of pain, regret, and of shame, a trio as deadly as any other virus. His world was still swirling as he hurried off, ignoring the stares that came his way, all this pain due to one moment of faux happiness, of forced passion. "I'm sorry." He repeated under his breath. "I'm sorry." Jill watched him leave; not knowing what it is she should feel for the young man. In a way, she felt sorry for him, the naivety of youth in general, but when she looks at her daughter in that bed, all the pity just goes away. 

"We can't solve anything by that." She softly reminded her husband, this time taking the role of comforter, unlike before. "…" Chris took a deep breath and closed his eyes, wiping away the smidge of blood that was splattered on his fist. "I'll pay for the…uh, thing." He whispered, referring to the plate broken by the impact from Mark's head. 

                It took him awhile before he could finally settle down in the corner of his room. He didn't want his grandmother to see the marks he had on his face after Chris attacked him earlier on. Mark spent the last hour in silence and rumination, evaluating that night, how it could have led to this. Of course, he could never have factored in an undead mutation hiding inside Heart. No one could have. He trailed his finger through the back of his head, grimacing at the sting from the wound that he had. Of course, the pain that he felt physically didn't match up to the realization that it was him who put Heart in the hospital. All of this pain around him, it was because of him. 

Author's note: Sleeveless and Capri? What was Mark thinking? Okay, so blablabla, angst here, guilt there, I guess you can see where my people are headed off to. Doesn't look too bright. I hope that the flashback was a proper explanation for Heart's actions. Do I have to explain why Rebecca didn't use the defibrillators to shock Heart back to life? I guess do. Oh yeah, the drug really has side-effects that totally mess with the nerve endings and branches in the brain and that could be fatal or long-term even if you try it only once. Until next time! 

                       


	8. The Weight of the World

Author's note: No, the title for this chapter isn't another blatant Buffy rip off, I just kind of liked how it sounded in the ext so I put it up there. The original title for this chapter was supposed to be "Release". This is kind of a filler chapter for the story, just pretty much two scenes that played out a little long. 

Frenchy: Yeah I guess so, but hey, if a marine swung at me, I probably would just run away and throw stuff at him from a distance. And I should talk too, I wore it in a party once, and some really blurry things happened. Hey, I can do good endings, well, I can if I wanted too, but I don't want to. I'm confused. 

Tek: What can I say? It's better than "Le Club" from Celine Dion's video. How old is James Marsters? I'm downloading season 7 off of KazaA right now. Evil. 

Ksim: Well, scary can be nice. I think. 

Schulyer: Uh, ecstasy is…something that turns off the nerve branches in your brain to disrupt the electrical impulses that prohibit any ethical/mental restrictions over amoral, physically inclined actions, leading to various bodily instabilities like excessive sweating, cramps, chewing, and dehydration. It could also rearrange the brain's branch work such that there are parts that could be left undeveloped (such as memory) and create entirely new ones. (Though I doubt you could generate ice or manipulate fire with them) Prolonged use could lead to fatal heart illnesses and malfunctions. Now be a good girl and don't try any. (Wow, that's from the top of my head!)    

Linda: Thanks.

Chapter 8: "Weight of the World" 

                It was a few hours after Chris' outbreak that he found himself along with his wife and Rebecca, discussing the problem once again. "Normally…ecstasy wouldn't have this kind of effect from one dosage." The doctor explained, in a way trying to calm Chris down before he march right up to Mark's house and kill him there. "What if he's lying?" he asked. "This isn't normal, what if she got an O.D.?" he followed, innately panicking at his child's current state. "If it was, I doubt that she'd be in a hospital." Rebecca replied. "…" She felt the guilt of all her words as she spoke in that dark, cold room. One of the biggest problems that doctors faced wasn't just the difficulty of saving lives, it was losing them, it was telling somebody that the person they loved wasn't there anymore. 

"…This…thing, this virus, from what I can discern, the vaccine that we gave you, Jill, it didn't eradicate the parasite, it… made it… recessive." 

"It what!?" Jill cried in disbelief. "Are you telling me that…that thing became…" 

"That thing is still in you. It had…a back up that we… weren't able to see. It turned into a gene." 

"Oh my God." Jill whispered. "But…that's impossible, how…?" Chris stammered, talking for his wife in the process. "That thing…it survives by turning another person into itself…and since Jill didn't…since she got the vaccine, it was pushed so far back that it decided to cling to her…DNA instead. It's…it's impossible, I know, but from your blood samples…this thing had some sort of back-up system that it adhered to if it somebody tries to purge it." She had to explain it. She didn't want to, but she needed to. She had to tell them about the physiological anomalies, the biochemical complexities of it all. The pain it would cause them. It was her job to do so. 

"You must have made a… mistake." Chris said grimly. 

"Like I haven't heard that before…Chris, I checked it over, and over, and over again, do you think I enjoy… bringing people bad news?" 

"Why not? Gets you money…" he responded. 

"Excuse me?" Rebecca asked in a shocked voice, causing Jill to give her husband a sharp glance. 

"…Nothing…" He stammered, rubbing the back of his head. 

"How dare you… think that I'd do all this to get some money off of you!?"  

"…" It was the first time that either of them managed to make Rebecca act like this. 

"I am spending time, away from the people I love, just to try and make everything, anything, at least sane, and you tell me… that all I want is your money!?"

"…" Neither of them could find a proper reaction, only that they wished this wasn't happening.

"How could you…?" Rebecca accused weakly, her voice was trembling now.

"…Becky…" Jill tried to calm her down, stepping forward a bit as she did.

"This isn't just a job!" she yelled, somewhat out of the blue, her voice cutting through the sudden silence. "Well if you did your job right then my daughter wouldn't be dying in the first place!" Chris snapped back, unable to control his very own emotions. There were other factors, time, causality, of course none of them mattered. All that mattered was human emotion. _"Oh God." _Chris thought to himself as he saw his friend's further pained expression. Emotion was destroying all of them. "Rebecca, I'm sorry." He apologized, but his words fell on deaf ears. The doctor was far away now. Her stare, her mind, her breath. 

"…Becky, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to…" He had to make things right. He knew that pushing more and more people away would only make things harder for all of them. 

"Please leave me alone." The doctor said softly, commandingly still, she couldn't look at the faces of the two people she fought alongside with for so many times. All she looked at were their shirts and hands. "…Becky…" Jill tried to get closer to their friend, but Rebecca stepped back just as she stepped forward.  "I think you should be with your daughter now." She said, still not wanting to look them in the eye. "…We're sorry." Jill said, tugging at her husband's arm.       

"…" Rebecca pulled out a chair and sat, it was in front of the very same microscope that she discovered the virus in. _"These things don't lie." _She told herself as she heard the door shut to a close. Rebecca rested her face on her hands, something she found herself doing a lot of times now. 

                Lisa stood outside; she avoided having to look at Jill and Chris as they exited the laboratory. It was already midnight, with all of them tired, some more so than others. With all the joys of marriage, the prospect of living life with somebody you truly love, there are bound to be fears that creep along. Lisa has already seen her fear firsthand. She wouldn't be able to take it, if her future child or husband would ever be struck down by disease. She's seen so many times, the tears, the awkward silences, for her, it was almost a nightmare.

"…Excuse me…Mrs. Oliviera?" Lisa cautiously entered. "I'm sorry…is this a bad time?" she asked, feeling the weight of the world inside the room. She's never seen the young doctor like that before, beaten emotionally.  "You…uh, have an emergency c-section in prenatal…" she said, although she didn't want to have to disturb Rebecca for that, she could call somebody else, but Rebecca was the one who was most sought after.

"…" No response. Rebecca didn't move a muscle, as she just silently sat, her face down on her hands.

"Mrs. Oliviera?" she asked again, feeling as though she was communicating with somebody who lost to the deep end of misery. 

"…" Silence.

"Miss Becky?" Still no reply. That was the name she asked to be called by he coworkers, and it was a name she always responded cheerfully too. It's just that when things go frantic in an ER, people tend to go for protocol and address their superiors like they would in the military. 

Lisa bit her lower lip as she began to hear soft sobbing come from the doctor. At that very moment, a hundred questions ran through Lisa's mind, but she knew that she wouldn't get any answers. She was just a nurse. "…Do… you want me to lock the door?" Lisa asked, feeling for the doctor whom she knew has had a very rough time, especially since she could hear the shouting from outside. Rebecca simply nodded, but didn't bother to turn around, as she once again heard the soft click, and rusty closing of the door. Left alone, unwanted.    

"You had no right to do that." Jill scolded her husband as they reached home, after three hours of staying with Heart in absolute silence. They needed to rest. He and Jill were still in the driveway, right in front of their porch. Chris switched the engine of the car off, and looked at her wife, clearly overridden with problems. "…I didn't mean to."  He said, tired of all the commotion that he already witnessed that extremely long day. All he waned now was a hot shower, and possibly an hour's rest before he goes back to the hospital to check on Heart.

"Well it still came out of your mouth. Rebecca's trying her best to help us and…"

"…She promised us that it was over."

"…She couldn't have seen it and you can't blame her for that…" Jill protested, feeling sorry for her friend, even though she felt the truth in her husband's words. 

"Why are you defending her? If she just did her job then we wouldn't have to go through all of this!" 

"And if you did yours then…!" 

"…What?" 

"…Let's get inside. It's starting to rain…" she said, and it did. The loud crackling already began to envelope the night, while sporadic drops of rain started to fall.

"Jill…"

"It's nothing, okay?" she immediately responded, trying not to get into any more fights that night.

"How can this be nothing? What do you mean…? I'm not a good parent?" It was his voice, child-like, that made his words seem to pierce through Jill's being.  Unfortunately, she couldn't help herself. 

"…I always told you, be careful of her, warn her about things, don't let her go out late at nights…and what do you do? Nothing. Nothing! You let her…" She lets it out, but stops her words from coming out before they could do more damage.

"…So you think it's my fault?" he asked her, in practically the same expression that Rebecca had earlier on. Words hurt. 

"I didn't say that…" she objected, even though she knew that it was what exactly came from out of her mouth. "Jill…!" He knew what she meant. "This isn't my fault." 

"Go ahead, tell yourself that." Jill bitterly commented, giving up all hopes of ending the night in a civilized way. "Don't you think that she'd do all that because of all the restrictions you put on her?" Chris asked accusingly. "…" Jill looked at him, shocked at his sudden state of thinking. "So it's my fault that I want to protect my daughter? I'm sorry, but I must have forgotten that I had a degree in psychology, and you didn't, because you seem to be acting like…"

"Like what? God knows I'm not as smart as you! God knows I didn't ace all my exams, but hell, I never thought that being a dean's lister had anything to do with being a good parent."

"Well it does have just a little something to do with logic, don't you think!?" 

"I tried to give her a life that you and I wanted her to have! You told me, after all the horrors that we saw, you told me that you'd want our baby to live in a world where she wouldn't have to be scared! This is the world we were talking about!" 

"A world with drugs? A world with…murderers and rapists? A world…a world so full of shit, that when morning comes, you can't tell up from down?" 

"It's the world we fought for." 

"I never realized how much it wasn't worth it. What kind of a world supports people who kill for a living? Make drugs that…ruin lives…!?" 

"…So what, you plan on putting her in a box because you're too afraid that the world isn't a nice, happy place for her to live in?"

"It isn't. It's a sick, sad world where people hurt other people because they have nothing better to do! It's a sick world where people hurt people because they like to…"

"That doesn't give you the right to deprive her of her childhood!" 

"I am not depriving her of her childhood! I am giving her one! I am protecting her from-" 

"You can't! Jill…we can't, okay? If we do, then, all she'll grow up with, is the knowledge that the world isn't a place she'd want to live in. That's horrible."

"…" Jill's face faltered. She was in the verge of tears.    

"Jill…a legacy, it's…it's a gift. Leaving a legacy means that… we make sure…we make sure that the world we leave behind, is a world better than the one we are living in right now." His voice trembled as he uttered those words. Words his father told him, words his grandfather told his father. "Is this the legacy you want to leave Heart behind? Because that would just mean that we failed as parents…we failed as people."  

"…" Jill began to cry, as she let out all her exhaustion, anger, pain. For Chris it was painful as well, seeing your only daughter unmoving in a hospital bed, and having to watch your wife cry. It was hell. Once again, Chris held her in his embrace, and for the first time in a long time, he began to cry. The world was in pain, and half of the world living in it didn't care.  

They spent another half and hour inside their pitch black BMW, finding the strength within each other in absolute silence. They needed it. Rivulets of rain slid down the car windows, casting shadows over their faces, mimicking tears that have already run out. She needed to rest. She had to. Chris would be back in the hospital by thirty minutes. Both of them needed the time alone. _"I'm really apologizing when I get back…" _Chris thought, feeling sorry for Rebecca, and humiliated with himself for his actions earlier on. Everything poured into his mind, the way he lashed out at Rebecca, how he attacked Mark. What would have his daughter thought?

"…Jill, I'm going back to the hospital. You stay here, rest for the night." Chris whispered, to which Jill submitted, feeling like she couldn't go on another minute. 

"I'm sorry for how I acted Jill…I love you."

"I love you too."                  

Author's note: "Legacy – To make sure that the world we leave behind is better than the one we are living in right now." Something my theology professor told me, I like the line so much, it stuck on me like bad cheese, and I was compelled to use it. Kind of a sappy chapter "Oh I love you!" Belch. Well, as usual, this is just ten chapters, so a few more and it'll all be over. Sanity will once again reign, and maybe somebody might get shocked again. (I'll make the ending a little more obvious) And where's mark? Why didn't he make an appearance? Did something bad happen to him? Suicide maybe? Was he run over by a burning truck just after he realized how much love could do for the world? I am sick. Help me.   


	9. Selfdestruct

Author's note: Once again, we are nearing the ending, and once again, I'm trying my best for a nice build-up. Once again, a little philosophy littered here and there, not to mention a little more into some of the characters' mind frame. Strangely, Jill is absent in this chapter, I guess that means all hell would have to break loose in the last chapter. 

Linda: Wow, you actually logged in this time! Hey, to answer your question…read a little further.

RE-babe: Yeah, truth is, I knew I had to answer that question sometime. But I like keeping my universe in check, so I'm keeping in with the continuity from my other stories, and since I have no clue what I'll do with Claire and Leon after their little run-through in "Remember Heaven", I couldn't put either of them up in this story. So, sorry about that. 

Tek: It isn't cheating…it's optimizing time. 

Dragonfight: Well, he's still alive. And hey, cured now. 

Frenchy: Yeah, thanks for rudely and obnoxiously pointing that out. By the way, why can't you name yourself "Catch 22"? Isn't Beckham a little too old and a little too married for you?  

Chapter 9: "Self-destruct"       

"…" He felt abandoned. Reason, logic, answers, nothing made sense anymore as he brooded in his room. It was something he was getting exceptionally good at the past few days since Chris batted him right across his face. Mark didn't wear anything, other than a pair of gray jogging pants, the ones that he used when he works out in his room with a pair of old, black weights. Stressing himself, exhausting himself, it was a way for him to release his anger without directly having to hurt himself. 

                Twisted as it was, Mark found that lightly hurting himself, punching his lap hard or banging the back of his head, gave him momentary relief, feeling as how much he deserved to be hurt for the trouble that he caused. With a deep breath, he touched his cheek, grateful for the fact that the black mark from Chris' knuckle was already gone, seeing as he had a difficult time hiding it from his grandmother. 

Thankfully, she was always in bed, and it was easy for mark to supply her with her meals as well as conceal the bruise that he had. He was about to go on another round of weights when the phone rang, prompting him to go out the hall where the phone was gently sitting on a small table.

"Hello?" he asked grimly, in a tone that would seem uncaring of the current events. 

"…Mark, this is Lisa." The voice from the other line greeted glumly, very much like him.  

"…Hey." He responded, leaning forward on the small table to rest his back. 

"It…wasn't just the drug that caused her to be like that." She said.   

"…Oh?" At that moment, he really didn't care. From what she said, it was still a factor, and all that she was doing was reminding him of how much he failed the Redfields. 

"…Aren't you glad?" she asked weakly. She knew that it would be improper for him to light up with the news that he wasn't completely at fault, that it was a forgivable mistake, but she felt that he would at least be an inch back to his former self. "…Yeah, I guess I am." He said, wanting the conversation to end; he still wasn't in the most sociable mood. 

It wasn't the only factor, something that Mark realized some time ago as he locked himself in the room. Science always had a reason for the things that God did not explain. _"…What if this was meant to be?" _Then again, what science can't explain, it's where faith takes a stand. He didn't want to think of the chances that these events were bordering on some morbid pre-destination, or the equal chances that this was in fact, all a game of chance. 

                The gambit that this was a divine plan was just equivalent to the possibility that this was the summation of uncontrollably controlled components that lead to a whole. Other than how Heart was doing, these were the thoughts that plagued Mark's mind. He didn't want to believe that this was a higher being's handy work. They were in love; they were in complete fixation to each other's eyes, that to tear them apart would just be horrific. 

No loving God would have let something like that happen. But then again, Mark would just look around, see how the world works. Corruption, greed, hatred, and lies, then Mark would doubt the very existence of a being so loving, as the Bible, or the Koran, would state. There was too much pain in the world, too much to believe that there is a lighter side to all of it. 

                On the other hand, there was the idea that this was all drowned in the pit of humanity. The notion that he existentially put this all on himself, that each and every aspect of what was happening now, was based solely on his decisions and irresponsibility. There was just no good way out. It was either his fault, or the fault of  higher being that he was raised to love and worship. He couldn't abandon his love to self-doubt. He couldn't abandon his faith to love. It was just a spiral of mental torture for the young man, who rested face-first on his bed. Incapable of doing anything else but wallow in self-pity. 

                Lisa hung the payphone's receiver back in its cradle. The corridor was empty, and the patients were all resting. A few others nurses passed by, all of them, including Lisa, hating the fact that they were assigned night duty. She brushed a few strands of hair from her cheek to the back of her ear, walking silently to Heart's room. 

The door was half-open, with a small ray of light peering into the dark room. Slowly, she made her way to the small opening, taking a look inside the practically pitch black space. The silhouette of Chris Redfield, sleeping, could be discerned from the shadows. He had his face down on folded elbows, resting on the side of Heart's bed. He was breathing soundly, softly, from what Lisa saw a few days ago, he needed the rest. It must have been one of those days when Jill would be too tired to look after Heart herself. 

"…" Lisa walked inside as silently as she could, and with the best of her vision, opened a drawer just by the door. Softly, she took out a small gray blanket, unfolded it, and every gently placed it around the sleeping man's shoulders. _"You deserve more than this…" _she thought, as she tried to comprehend the train of thought these people must have been in before they could finally find sleep. 

"Looks like you'll need a vacation after this." Rebecca whispered to Lisa, standing just outside the darkened room. "I need a vacation right now, doctor." Lisa replied jokingly. Injecting humor into utter darkness was the only thing some people could do when faced with depression. 

"Looks like you really care for these people." Rebecca said as Lisa stepped outside, softly closing the door behind her. "…I care for all my patients." 

"Spoken like a doctor." 

"…Lisa?"

"Yes, doctor Oliviera?" 

"…You'll do well in this profession."

"…Thank you." 

"Lisa?"

"Yes, doctor?" 

"I have something I need to tell you…" 

                Lisa bit her lower lip, feeling the gravity of the doctor's words. "Come with me to the lab. I wouldn't want him to hear." She said as she started to turn and walk to the end of the corridor. Their footsteps echoed hauntingly, Lisa almost expected them to stop while the sounds of feet thudding against the floor would still continue without them. "The thing inside Heart's body…it's…you shouldn't be too attached to the patients here…do you understand?" 

"…" The doctor's words quickly lodged themselves into Lisa's senses. She knew full well what Rebecca meant when she uttered those words. "…Are we giving up on her?" Lisa asked, folding her arms over her chest. "…She's dying, and there's nothing we can do about it." 

"You're a doctor." 

"I'm human." Rebecca rubbed her temples and sat down, once again in front of her microscope, while Lisa stood a few feet away from her. "There's no cure, is there?" the nurse asked, feeling more and more depressed. "We pumped Jill Valentine with enough vaccines to turn an elephant into a vegetable, just to kill this thing. It didn't die, and now, it's adapted to the chemicals that we used." 

"But wasn't that a more than a decade ago? Don't we have anything new?"  

"…Her physiology won't allow it. If we use any more medicine on her, the virus might just…eat it, and turn into something physical, something that could burst out of her and infect us all. The…reason why I didn't let Justin use the defibrillator is because the shock could jumpstart this thing, and kill Heart from inside." She tried to explain. Her eyes were far away now; she was reliving her days as one of the fighters who fought against Umbrella. Lisa knew Rebecca's past history, the fact that monsters did exist, but still couldn't find herself to believe that a reject from an Aliens movie could come out of Heart in anytime. "So, you're telling me that it's hopeless." 

"This thing won't go away, it won't die, and it won't stop, until it eats all of her insides, free itself, and then presumably kill us all." 

"Please don't tell me I'm living in a soap opera." 

"Heart only has a few days left…" Rebecca suddenly announced, catching Lisa off guard. "And I honestly…don't have a clue what I'm going to do next." The doctor then said, looking as if it was some complex orbital problem that she had to decipher. "I don't think I can face them with the news." 

"…You…want me to be the one to tell them?" 

"…I can't handle this anymore." Rebecca said with a soft sigh, her eyes were puffy and red, the result of hard work and tears combined. "…Neither can I. Jill saved my life once…I can't tell her that…" Lisa stuttered, trying to find the right words, but ultimately failing. 

"I don't want to tell them that their kid is going to die." The nurse then said, gritting her teeth in frustration. 

                Chris took a deep breath and turned away from the door, his heart hitting rock bottom after eavesdropping on what the two people were talking about inside the lab. He pushed his hands into his pockets, feeling a cold brush running across his skin. Chris had on a gray sweater and a pair of black slacks, still not enough to keep him warm. The walk back to his room seemed longer now, harder even. _"…their kid is going to die…" _Her words kept on dancing inside his head, a slow, steady beat that never ends. He stopped and turned his head to see Heart's peaceful state, knowing now the turmoil that must have been going on inside her. 

                She wasn't like she was before. Her eyes were now sunken, her skin pale with the joints becoming darker. Her long hair lost its shine, while her lips were now just as white as her skin. The sickness was burrowing through from inside, making her look more and more like how she would be if they won't find a cure. _"Should I tell Jill?" _he asked himself as he gently closed the door, not wanting to see her body anymore. "Mr. Redfield?" 

                Lisa stood a few feet away from him, nervously clutching a clipboard with both her hands. Like Heart, she too wasn't as beautiful as when they first saw her. She was thinner now, with the lack of sleep showing as rings underneath her eyes. Of course, like Heart, she was still beautiful, it just didn't show as much as it used to. "…I…" 

"I heard." Chris said, saving the nurse the pain if having to bear the news herself. He didn't blame Rebecca for having to task it onto somebody else, especially since what has happened between them. "You…did…? Lisa's vice like grip on her clipboard became softer, but the look of trepidation, mixed with sadness, was still prevalent over the rest of her features.  "How long before…she…?" He couldn't bring himself to finish the question. There was something inherently wrong in asking somebody when the girl they are taking care of would die. 

Lisa caught on. "…Three days at most. I'm…really sorry, Mr. Redfield. Really…" Chris nodded and bit his lower lip, his face was faltering. Lisa turned her eyes away, realizing how uncomfortable it must be for somebody like Chris. He didn't want to think about his daughter, but the harder he tried, more and more flashes of the past came over him, the more he felt like breaking down. He felt like it was so long since he last talked to her, seen her smile. Carpe Diem. "…Just let it out, Mr. Redfield." Lisa whispered. "It'll be easier." She said, putting a hand on his shoulder. Chris nodded, and without any other word, he began to whimper, something all adults do when not in the company of most others. 

"She's our only daughter." He said, before finally letting his tears flow. Lisa closed her eyes and took the older man into her embrace, letting him dry his tears over her shoulder. 

                Rebecca closed the door and leaned her back against it, with the image of one of her best friends in utter devastation, running over and over in her mind. Like them, she was exhausted, with every facet of her being in complete discord. The notions that there was nothing she could do, the voices that keep on telling her that she quit on somebody, especially the conclusion that was looming in the horizon, made her cry. It was something she hasn't done in ages, something that her senses wished to do the moment she began to doubt her own capabilities. 

                She fell down, still leaning on the door, and let it out. Her anger, her frustration, self-pity, she let it cascade down her cheeks along with the crystalline salt water. It kept on nagging at her, the notion that all of this suffering started with something she overlooked, it was too much for her to bear. So she cried. She hugged her knees and looked up, finding the dark ceiling, blurred by her tears. All of them, Chris, Rebecca, Mark, and soon enough Jill, they were all about to self-destruct. 

Author's note: Yes, they will all suffer in the next (final!) chapter, the big question is will there actually be a happy ending after all this gloom and…whatever rhymes? The biggest twist I could  possibly pull of is that Heart survives, everybody celebrates, and she and Mark move to a farm in Missouri. Then again, I could just kill somebody…again. No, that would be too obvious. I hope Heart lives through this.        


	10. Heart

Author's note: The final chapter is upon us, and once again, I have no clue what reaction to expect. It could be "I knew it" or "I didn't know it". I just hope that it somehow manages to tie up this story in the best way it could. It could be a little confusing at first (or at last) but I tried my best to make it as clear as possible, and this was the end result. So, without further ado, this is it, the final chapter of the Valentine Legacy. 

Frenchy: It would also be really great if I'd win a million dollars, hehe. But I like your current name. 

Bloodlover: Both my parents, my aunts and uncles (and my sister) are doctors, and I've taken up a pre-med course myself, so I'm fairly acquainted with a few medical and anatomical terms. Hurts my head though. I don't watch ER, but from your review, I guess all I can say is thanks. 

Chris Redfield Fan: No problem. 

Hyperactive hamster of Doom: Well, I try to give my stories a good ending, oh hell, who am I kidding. Seriously though, if you don't like happy endings, I really doubt that you'd enjoy most (if not all) of my writing. But not stopping you though, I'd love to see your reaction when all of this is said and done. 

Tek: Sure thing. Why'd you choose the name tek anyway? 

Dragonfight: It's a little in between actually. But hey, no way do I make stories that are too sappy, that is just not me. 

Hotaru: Oh, dear God no. 

Chapter 10: "Heart" 

              The entire area was pure white, no blemish, no chipped off paint. Simply, purely, white. "Heart?" Jill walked down the lost hall, noticing her daughter sitting on a wooden chair a few feet away from her. Heart wore a red, strapless gown, making her look as beautiful as she was before the virus ate away at her body. Her mother on the other hand, wore a white gown, covering her entire body, save her hand and feet. She could have very well disappeared into the entire backdrop. "…Mom." Heart replied with a tender smile, an air of childishness that Jill had long forgotten in her daughter. It was something she last saw when Heart was trying out her first gown for spring dance. 

              She wanted to wrap Heart around her hands so desperately, but found that she could not move. All Jill could do was look at her daughter, who was but an arm's reach away from her. "You're alright." She could only mutter with a blissful expression, cherishing the fact that her daughter wasn't in the hospital bed anymore. "Mom…I miss you." The girl wholeheartedly told her mother, keeping her hands on her lap. "Heart…I…" she couldn't find the words. "I…miss you too." She tried, she really did, but there was one aspect, one important aspect of being a mother that was not present in her, and that was communication. 

"It isn't you fault." The girl softly said, soothing Jill's confused emotions at the moment. It was as if Heart knew exactly what Jill was thinking. She was afraid. Fearful of what the truth may bring. Most people are. The truth, the legacy that she left behind for her daughter. If Heart survived, she could never have a daughter as well, since they found out that the virus would keep on coming back. "I started all of this. If I moved a little bit faster…or…ducked…then my blood wouldn't have been contaminated…" Jill stammered in reply. Up till now, all she thought of was that singular moment when a creature of utter imagination caught her off guard and ruined her future. 

"Mom…you're a fighter. I know that, dad knows that…but…I can fight my own battles. I want to fight my own battles…I have to." The roles were reversed. At that time, in the compression of segmented time, Heart acted like she was the parent. She took upon herself the role of guidance. 

"Heart…"

"You and dad, you two taught me what was right and wrong…granted I slipped up on a number of occasions…mom, thank you for protecting me, but…you can't hide from everything and anything out there… I want to see the world." 

"It's dangerous. It's a dark place that has so many problems…"

"It also has hope! It also has…faith, dreams…love. It has an invisible heart that only a few people care for… and I want to care for it."

"…"

"You should understand mom, I don't need a guard to know each and every step I make…I need a friend, a mother in every way. I need somebody who would tell me about… that time of month…or…or tell me how lucky I am to have Mark for a boyfriend…or we could watch stupid soap operas together when we get tired from the day…"

"…I do…I do want that…I just… can't find the words…" Jill was starting to feel the warm sting of salt water affect her eyes. Her voice, her mind, it was all starting to go around in a muddle of emotions.

"You should have at least tried. I know that you aren't good with words but if you would have at least….told me I was beautiful…or…or told me that it was okay when I flunked Trig…that would have meant so much."

"Then…I…yes, Heart yes, I still love you no matter what, I don't care that you had troubles in school…I just want you back! Please…I'll be different, I'll…I'll comb your hair, take you out shopping…I'll take you to the movies late at night…just please! Don't leave me!" Jill desperately cried out to her daughter, reaching for her hand with all her might. 

"I love you mom." Heart replied, still sitting in place. 

"I love you too baby…I love you…I love you…"        

              Jill stared at the burned out fireplace, with the sun shining down on her from the great glass partition. The hymns of birds could clearly be heard from outside.  She was motionless, with her mouth just hanging slightly open. Chris stood in front of her, carrying a painful expression on his face. His sullen nature matched his black shirt and pants. Like her, he didn't utter any more words. Like her, he was tired of crying. It was sunny outside, warm, with the very beauty of nature at its peak. Inside, it was cold, with the sunlight barely enough to illuminate the room. Jill hugged herself, trying desperately to keep herself warm, even though she had on her a thick, white turtleneck and a pair of brown denim pants. She was sitting near the edge of the sofa, practically frozen. 

              It was just seconds ago that she heard her husband's news, that their only daughter, Heart, had no other choice but to die. That they themselves had no choice but to wait. It was always a parent's nightmare to see their children pass away before they do, not just because of their love, their sweat and tears, it was also because of the possibilities. It could also be what that person, brought into the world, could have accomplished, whether good or bad. Heart, their daughter, held so much promise, had so much love, she affected each and every person around her when she didn't even know it. "Maybe we should go for a walk." Chris whispered to his wife, bending down to gently hold her hand. 

              The blades of grass let out soft, cracking sounds, as dew clung to their boots. Hand in hand, the two walked along the river, still silent. Jill had on a brown leather coat, while Chris had a gray denim jacket. The sun made the blades of grass, the water and trees, glow in subtlety, as if wishing to help them feel better by bombarding them with beauty. "You know…we used to have picnics here…just by the water…" Chris said, prompting flashes of their past to erupt. "Heart was barely my waist back then." Jill responded, keeping her eyes low, as if tracing her doomed child's steps. 

"You know…ever since I can remember, she and Mark would be inseparable." Jill recalled, as the jovial laughter of the two children echoed in her mind. "…" Chris fell silent in hearing her boyfriend's name. "It isn't his fault, Chris." Jill said, tugging at her husband's arm.

"…How can you say that? You know he gave her the drugs." He then responded, still not being able to forgive the young man whom they lost contact with. "…This is destroying us, Chris. Blaming others…we're looking away at our own faults…"

"That's not…I know we may not be the most…God…we aren't the world's best parents Jill, but we did our jobs the way we knew how…" 

"…Raising a person…Chris, what if that isn't a job?"

"…"

"She's a gift."

"…It's his fault."

"It's my fault too then. It's more my fault than any other's." Jill suddenly rebutted, catching Chris off guard. "Don't say that…" Chris said, stopping and facing her. "Chris…all of this, it started with me. With my blood." She explained to him, staring right into his eyes. "…"

"It got me thinking…what that guy said about us having no freedom…now, I completely disagree. Freedom exists, it is a small…window, something that we could accomplish in the very beginning of the day by… we are ourselves… we are all…" Jill bit her lower lip, shaking her head. "…what happened in the past doesn't make us who we are, it gives us a direction, but it doesn't mean that we'll live it…what matters is now. Looking back, Arklay… Umbrella… from Nemesis, to the operation…to the drugs…it's…hard to believe that…it's all not just one…big…" 

"…Coincidence." Chris finished.

"…Design." Jill corrected. "…You're thinking that God pulled this elaborate plan to send us to our own private hells?" Her husband asked her sarcastically, not too open to the idea of a grander design. Not many people are. "…Nothing just happens, Chris. We live, we die, sure, but…do we live when we live, or die when we die?" Jill certainly had too much interaction with books. "…Even if she…she'll live on Chris." The woman whispered. "Don't give up on her." Chris responded, though he knew that he was down the same path of thought as well. 

"If…this is some sort of grand plan…if there is a God, then maybe…just maybe…we have a fighting chance." He said, disobeying his own overpowering doubt. Of course, he did wish for a sign to prove him wrong, some sort of divine intervention, but he was being realistic when he immediately cornered those thoughts to the back of his head. His words came out forced, giving Jill a clear idea that in a way, he was just giving them false hope. He knew that they only had little time left to see their daughter breathing. 

              Mark bit his lower lip as he helped his grandmother sit down on a pew in their parish. It was relatively small, compared to most other places of worship in the surrounding area. He wore a loose, green shirt and a pair of pants that had large, childish flowers on one thigh, something that Heart sewn out of boredom. Her grandmother was awfully silent, especially since because she had complications in her Brocka's area that impeded her speech. Her stare however, said many things. "…" Mark didn't feel particularly enthusiastic about Church, especially due to the fact that his prayers weren't only unanswered, they were completely and utterly reversed. 

"You're troubled again." The old woman whispered to his ear. 

"What makes you say that?" Mark asked her, not in the mood for her glorified tales of righteousness and love. After all, the heart can only take somebody so far. 

"The perennial scowl, the brooding, skulking…need I go on?" 

"Or we can just not talk about this altogether." He quickly responded, not wanting the conversation to go any further. "It's up to you." She then replied, looking straight on at the altar. 

"…" Mark crossed his hands over his chest and leaned back. "…You know Mark…it's true what was said…if you want God to heal your heart…then you have to give Him all the pieces."  

"How are we doing today?" Lisa asked Heart as she sat beside her table. As always, there won't be an answer, only a slow, steady breathing that made the nurse wonder what kind of dreams she could be having, if any. Unlike before, she didn't need as much machinery around her, either a sign that one day, she would recover, or that she really has no other choice but to die. "Hmm?" Lisa looked at the ECG machine just by Heart's bed and noticed that her lifeline was rapidly moving. It was abnormal. "Get me doctor Oliviera!" she quickly shouted to a passing nurse, who took her intensity to heart. 

              "What is life?" The priest asked as an opening statement for his sermon. It was enough to gain Mark's attention as he leaned forward, wanting to know if there actually was a lighter side to all the hell that he is currently going through. "You may have asked yourselves…why something bad or good has happened to you. You may have often debated whether you deserve what you get from seemingly unpredictable and uncontrollable facets of life." The priest was old, but still carried himself with an air of strength and veneration that instantly drew the crowd in. "The truth is, when bad things happen to us, we go on a singular basis, meaning that all we see is the person in the mirror." 

              Rebecca hurried down the halls, putting on her white coat and brushing back her hair. "What's wrong?" she immediately asked, the moment she saw Lisa standing right by the door of Heart Redfield's room. "Her pulse and heart beat are racing. I don't know what's happening to her." The nurse quickly reported, prompting Rebecca to pick up her stride.

              _"But, friends…brothers and sisters, why don't we try to see the bigger picture in all of this?  We are all taught to see ourselves through a sociological perspective. Right? How's about…we do that in our religious life as well? I mean, society teaches us that we look at ourselves from the perspective of our surroundings. Why can't we do the same about God? Why can't we try and look at ourselves from the possibly perspective, from our own limited view, of God?"  _  

              Rebecca found that a few other nurses have already gathered around the patient. "Anything?" she asked Justin, who looked at her with an estranged look on his face. "It's like…her body is getting chills." He responded, seeing as Heart's body was beginning to act like it was under severe cold. "But she's still unconscious…quick, get some water. You know what to do." She told Lisa, who instructed the others to start wiping Heart with cold towels to protect her for the incoming fire. 

              _"We, as human beings, are so consumed with our problems, that at times, we shut everything else off. We put ourselves above others, because we believe that what we are going through, inside and out, are far worse than what others may be going through themselves. Even as a man of the cloth, I've had that challenge. I've had my doubts."_

"Her heart beat isn't slowing down!" Lisa yelled over the beeping machinery and panicking staff members. "…" Rebecca placed her palm on top of Heart's chest. "Something's building up in her cardio-peritoneal cavity." She announced, sending looks of confusion from the staff. "Give me an injection, quick." The doctor ordered, opening her palm to particularly no one as she kept her gaze steady on Heart. "What do I put in it?" Lisa asked. "Nothing, just give it to me." The doctor responded. 

              _"Ever since the renaissance, human beings have begun looking at the smaller picture. Yes, we had the right didn't we? We realized the concept of individualism, the importance of our own voice. We found our talents…and molded them into our very own special capabilities."_

Rebecca plunged the needle straight into Heart's chest, and began to extract some of the mass building up inside. "Oh God." Lisa uttered under her breath, as thick, puss-colored liquid began to get taken out of Heart's chest. "What is that?" Justin asked in shock, an expression that was as evident in his face as it was in Rebecca's. _"Nemesis is taking form…" _she deduced in her mind. 

              _"But it was also then that we found ourselves in the beginning of the road to self-destruction…the first stage in which humanity consciously puts aside the theological world in favor of the new industrialized one. It isn't necessarily bad. Well, it isn't necessarily good either. You see, with the dawn of individualism, we had our eyes set on ourselves, focused on ourselves, that in our mind, everything else revolves around us… especially to the decisions we make."_

Lisa watched in horror as the liquid became so dense that it broke out of the injection capsule, sending small shards of glass flying everywhere. As they were, silence and shock prevailed in the room, as Rebecca held the broken end of the injection in her hand. "…She's burning up…she's burning up!" Justin suddenly shouted, breaking the silence in the muted room. "Get more water over her…Lisa, call the Redfields…tell them we have a situation." 

              _"The truth is…we are all interconnected to each other, with a web of thought. You may not know who it is sitting beside you right now, but you do know that he or she shares with you a common faith. You may also share a common love for movies or poetry. You don't know it, but you may share more things, aspects, in common with… a stranger than with somebody you trust completely."_

Jill and Chris practically jumped off their seats the moment the latter parked their BMW in front of the hospital. Genuine fear ran through their systems as they raced past the electronic, sliding doors, with only the single, resounding thought of their daughter lodged into their minds. "This thing still wants her alive." Rebecca announced to the staff as they fought to keep her in the realm of the living. "It's feeding off of her." Jill and Chris burst through the double-doors and found themselves in the hallway where they kept their daughter. "Heart!!!" Jill screamed at the top of her lungs as she ran ahead at full speed. 

              _"What I'm saying is, that everyone around us, all of us, we each have our story. We each have our own drama, our own personal conflict that deserves a spot in primetime television…but we must all realize, that with all our stories, we can achieve something bigger. Something on a grander scale. And what this is, is the plan of God, the plan that He bestowed on each of us." _

Mark felt his pocket vibrate, and slowly took out his cell phone. He glanced down, and opened the message that he had just received. His grandmother turned to see his face, noticing the shocked expression etched on her grandson. "Grandma…I…" he stuttered, not able to form a coherent thought or sentence. Without another word, he stood up and hurriedly exited the church, much to her grandmother's surprise. The moment he stepped out of the double doors, he began to sprint for the hospital as fast as he could. 

              _"But…do we abide by destiny? How do we know if we're living the way we want? How de we know that all our lives aren't just going to be played out until we die? How de we know that we are free to use the gift of choice? I mean, if God had us all set out to do specific roles…roles that we cannot avoid…why then do we do what we do? Why not just let His choices carry us for the rest of our lives? If it's unavoidable…why fight it?"_

Jill rushed right into the room, but was pulled back by her husband. No words were exchanged, no questions, as they watched the hospital crew reconnect Heart to numerous cardiographs and life support machines. Jill's mind flashed back to her faux conversation with her daughter, wondering of those words, fearing that those words would be indeed their last goodbye. From inside, Rebecca gave them a grave look, signaling the dire situation. 

              _"We have all been given the gift of choice, and it is these our choices that…in the end, determine who we are…what we are. Our worth as human beings…our worth to the eyes of God. You see, we can never, ever know if we really do have the power of freedom in our hands. Because if we did, would we be capable of using it well?"_

Mark hurried up to Heart's room, stopping when he found Jill and Chris standing outside, watching as the fight for their daughter's life kept on. "…" He had no idea what to say as Chris' gaze met his own. In that instant, he saw every emotion there was in his heart, through his eyes. Pain, confusion, anger, blame, interwoven into an axe that could cut anything in half. For a moment, Mark felt that going further on would result in getting his face smashed in all over again, but it was in the air of sorrow that he realized that notion was a false one. "…It's all gravitating towards her heart." Rebecca reported to the couple, words that Mark easily heard as well. 

"A transplant." Lisa suggested, catching everyone's attention. "If it's all moving toward her heart…then if we do a transplant…" 

"She could be saved." Rebecca finished; words that made Jill and Chris' hearts stop beating. There it was, the chance of survival. "But there aren't any heart transplants…all the donors' organs have been reserved for other cases." The doctor then stated, unknowingly stabbing knives right through the couple's emotional stability. "…" Mark shuffled forward, once again feeling like he was just a shadow in the midst of stars. _"…When you want the lord to fix your heart…then you have to give Him all the pieces…" _the haunting words suddenly came back to his mind, and in an instant, the choice came to him. "…Use…mine." He said weakly at first, catching no one's attention. 

"There has to be something…!" Jill protested. "She's dying right now, there are others who aren't!" she argued, pushing forward. "There are legal implications!" Rebecca rebutted. 

"Use…mine. Use mine!" Mark suddenly yelled, charging into the room, only to be held back by Justin. Rebecca shook her head in shock as she watched the teenager struggle against the much bigger man. 

"Please! This is my fault, let me save her!" he cried in anguish, tearing everyone apart. "…Get him out of here." Rebecca softly ordered, raising a litany of protests from the young man. "No! Please let me help her!" he yelled over and over. "Get him out of here!" Rebecca ordered once again, as Justin was able to push Mark away. 

              _"…When it all comes down to it…we…humans…in our imperfection, in our…selfishness…we have no right to possess this gift of freedom. Don't get me wrong, I'm firm in the belief that God have us the power of choice, and in it the power of freedom…and in it came the best and worst things from people. With it came sin…lust, avarice, gluttony, envy…" _

"What is this?" a young police officer asked as he noticed the commotion from the other end of the hall. "…Please get him out of here." Justin instructed. "He's disturbing the…operation." He said, and in glance at the hysterical young man, the African American officer agreed. "No! No!" his voice echoed throughout the halls, catching everyone's attention to their situation. "…Mark…" Jill felt for him, but as always, found it difficult to put her emotions into words. 

              _"But then again…there is charity…generosity, selflessness…most of all…sacrifice." _

"What the…?" the officer didn't notice how fast the young man was. Mark turned, grabbed the policeman's handgun, and promptly pushed him right into Chris and Jill's direction, causing bystanders to scream in shock. Mark aimed the handgun at them, forcing them to keep their distance. "Please…let me help her…" he pleaded, his face in as much anguish as Jill and Chris. "Mark…think about this…" Chris tried to reason, inching forward. "…" Mark didn't budge, he knew in his heart that Chris wasn't entirely disagreeing with his motive of sacrifice. "…Tell her I love her for me…please?" Mark asked weakly, and suddenly placed the barrel right beside his temple. "No!" 

              _"How do we know if we're in the right path or not? Are we even supposed to know? I have thought about it for weeks on end, and honestly, I am stumped. But one thing I do agree with wholeheartedly…though it may not be the postulate of life itself…it certainly does have its merit. And that is…to quote a tagline…when it is real…when it is right…then do not let anything stand in your way. No matter what. Fight for what you believe in." _

              Mark closed his eyes and gritted his teeth, readying himself for the end of the line. "No." Chris suddenly tackled Mark down before he could kill himself, causing the young man to let loose a stray shot that thankfully didn't hit anybody. The young man felt all the air get sucked out of his system as he fell down, with Chris right on top of him. After a second, he opened his eyes, and once again, met the older man's stare right into his own. "No." he reiterated in a low voice. 

              It was then, that the siren-like wail of a flat-line permeated the walls. No one moved a muscle, as Chris stared right at Mark, both of whom had faces of muted, yet anticipated disbelief. "CPR! Now!" they could hear Rebecca order, but the sound was like a distorted wail from an indiscernible distance. "Don't die on me Heart…please!" the doctor's words were loud, but yet unheard, as the young girl slipped away into the next world. It was then that the police officer lifted Chris off of Mark, who still held the handgun. All of them had defeated expressions on their faces. Chris turned to see his wife mechanically walking inside the room, right to their daughter's bed, and decided not to join her. 

               Rebecca ordered everyone to leave, along with her, each disappointed and heartbroken at the outcome of the tale. "…That was very brave of you." She complemented Mark as she left, words that never found their center amidst the tragedy. Lisa held Mark's shoulder, and mouthed the words of an apology, before she left. Mark was still stuck in a state of silent confusion. He turned and saw the officer shake his head and walk away, clearly one who saw many travesties in his life. 

Heart's eyes opened, and she stared directly into her mother's eyes. "It's okay." She whispered softly. "…" Jill shook her head and covered her mouth with her hand. Every moment she shared with her daughter, every stolen laugh, each priceless tear, everything came back to her in a flash. That was enough to make her break down in agony as she looked onto the completely covered body of Heart. Chris embraced her from behind, but he knew full well that it would never be enough to comfort his wife, nor him. Perhaps only time could heal their wounds. Softly, slowly, their muffled cries echoed into each persons' heart. "She's gone." Jill uttered as she cried. 

"She's gone."  __

The End 

Author's note: I actually wanted Mark to die, and heart to live, but I realized how much of a cliché that sacrifice "oh, use my organ" thing is, so in the end I scrapped it for a more…well, sad ending.  Jill's conversations with Heart (even though she was in a coma all along) could either an angel's or her very own conscience, I'd rather let you readers decide which one it is. I had a great time writing this, and I hope you felt the same reading it. (Well, I mean in the entirety of the story, I don't think I enjoy killing people…) For my next story…I'm thinking about using homosexuality and bigotry as the main theme. I hope I don't pull any strings with that one. Okay, till next time. –Karl    


End file.
